


Autumn

by YaBoiMeowff



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: Acceptance, Adolescence, Awkward Flirting, Depression, Drama, Embarrassment, F/M, Flirting, Hybrids, Lost Love, Magic, Moving On, Novel, Romance, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaBoiMeowff/pseuds/YaBoiMeowff
Summary: With the defeat of Darkstalker, Winter is forced to come to terms with a new life-one where he is no longer a prince, and the love of his life does not love him back. How will the arrival of a new student at Jade Academy affect his suddenly dreary life? Winter/OC, Regular updates.





	1. Teacher of the Year

_I wonder what Moon is doing right now...._

_Is she alright?_

_Is she safe?_

_Is she... happy?_ Winter squeezed the extra thick piece of charcoal pincer'd between his talons. _I wonder if she's... with...._

His eyes closed and he took a deep breath. It didn't matter. It didn't matter if she was with him or if she was completely alone.

Sure, he'd heard that they'd gotten together. He'd heard from her, from him, and from Turtle and Anemone... and from others. He'd heard it a million times from Kinkajou—who _refused_ to shut up about it—and he'd heard it from himself, over and over and over again.

 _Not that it matters._ He thought. _It doesn't matter. Not to me. In fact, I'm happy about it; I'm happy for Qibli._

He sighed again, and sank a bit further into his chair.

_It matters so much...._

His brow furled.

 _No! No, it doesn't! It doesn't matter at all!_ He sat up a bit straighter in his desk. _I am Winter of the IceWings and I am not going to let something as... as_ petty _as this make a fool of me. I am_ better _than this. I don't need Moon.... Not for anything more than a friend._

He looked down at the empty sheet of paper before him and squeezed the charcoal again.

_Right?!_

He took another breath and looked up. His head went from one side to the other, scanning the room. He was in history class with Webs. His clawmates around him listened to Web's lecture, and then scribbled down notes on their papers with their charcoal, as if everything were okay, as if everything were _just the way it was supposed to be._

He sighed again and sank back down.

_Who am I kidding...._

It was unlike him. Normally he was so powerful, so stoic, so independent.... What had changed? Ever since they'd trapped the Darkstalker back under the mountains, he'd felt... off. As if things were wrong, and were slowly crumbling to a wronger state.

Maybe, he'd thought many times, it was having no home to go back to.

It had felt weird immediately after the war, after all the excitement between his tribe and the 'king of the Nightwings' had died down--but that was normal, right? To wake up one morning and realize 'oh yeah, I'm banished from my home, from my tribe, from my _entire life,'_ and now without the added benefit of a world threatening sociopath to help distract me, and then to feel a bit depressed because of it. Just a bit. No, not even that, a bit... off-put. That was all. He had just needed some time to adjust.

And he had adjusted. He'd traveled to Possibility and met other Icewings like him, ones who didn't care about the hierarchy or royalty or any of the other rules and regulations that had turned his life into what it was. He'd enjoyed their company, and he still counted them among his friends.

He'd studied scavengers—or as he now called them, ' _the_ scavengers.' He'd known for awhile they were more than they were made out to be, more than mindless animals. And he'd had an amazing time exploring this further, discovering a bit more about their capabilities and their immense complexities.

Even though his trip out in the field was on extended hiatus for school, he had no plans of stopping. He wanted to be a professor. Or a keeper. Or a diplomat. He wanted to be the head of the scavenger den in New Possibility.

He had all sorts of friends, dreams, passions, opportunities. The world was so much wider than it had ever been before. Things were no longer defined by tribes, or limited to war, or held in one barren place by _walls_ and an _aristocracy_. His freedom filled a Moon-sized void in him; a void that desperately needed filling.

Winter sighed again. He looked down at his blank paper wistfully, and began to doodle absentmindedly on the side. A dragon. Dark, with silver tear drop scales by her eyes.

But he had two voids in his life now. For those months after the defeat of Darkstalker, he'd kept himself busy enough to forget the pain of losing Moon. He buried the pain of her absence in his life with new and old friends, and he'd buried the pain of knowing she could never again be truly present in his life with his study of scavengers--but what was left to bury the pain of not having a home?

He released another silent sigh, this time slower, his jaw quivering as the air slid from his nose.

 _This is so unlike me._ He thought, his energy from before entirely gone. _This is... so, so unlike me._

“Well.”

Winter's head jerked up. His clawmates had all turned to peer at him, some of them waiting for the right moment to begin laughing, others already chuckling.

“I'm assuming you're drawing something _history_ related, Winter,” Webs leaned in. Winter quickly covered his drawing with both talons. “Because we're in _history_ class and I would think in _history_ you'd be doing something involving _history.”_

“I-It's nothing!” Winter barked, blushing furiously. The intensity of his reaction sparked a sudden laughter throughout the class.

“I'm sure.” Webs replied with a dull tone. “I don't actually care what it is. Just pay attention and don't make me come over here again.”

Winter scowled at the mocking eyes of his clawmates and then he scowled at Web's back. He turned toward the sheet of paper on his desk. His normally cold face radiated warmth and his teeth grinded.

_I hate it here. I hate it everywhere without Moon.... I hate her for what she turned me into._

He swallowed and his body tightened.

_I don't mean that, I don't mean that, I don't mean that...._

He sighed again, and then again, and a third time a few moments later. He repeated the mantra in his head until he felt he believed it, until he felt he'd made up for the offhanded thought, and then he let the words fall away, into a new chain of depressing self-obsession.

_So unusual. So, so unusual...._

With each sigh, he sank lower into his chair, until he was as low as before. But this time, he didn't doodle. He just stared at his picture, with one talon casually blocking it from peeking eyes.

And then the door to the class opened, and a familiar snout peered in.

 _“_ Hi, Webs. Sorry to inter-”

“-Wonderful,” Webs threw his talons up in exasperation. “Another interruption.”

Sunny pursed her brow with frustration, but regained her composure a moment later. “It's nice to see you too, Webs. I'm sorry to interrupt, but the new student has arrived.”

“...And you thought you'd just plop her down in the middle of a class? Why am I not surprised?”

Sunny frowned. “I thought it might be a good chance to _introduce her_ to everybody. You know, while they're all here?”

Webs sighed, and taking this as an invitation, Sunny walked in with the new girl in tow.

Winter watched this mysterious, dark orange dragon enter, each ginger step making his eyes grow a bit wider. She looked a lot like Sunny, except darker, wider, and more... beautiful.

And _tall_. Taller than a lot of the males in the class. Almost as tall as him.

“Okay everybody! As you probably just heard from my _spirited_ conversation with Webs: we have a new student at the academy!” She clapped her talons together and glanced over at the new girl, who was holding her talons together in front and looking shyly down at her claws. “Exciting, isn't it? Her name is Summer. She is a special guest and won't be joining as a part of any tribe. She'll be fit into a winglet, but we haven't _quite_ worked out which one yet, but we'll get back to you all soon! She is going to be joining you guys for history today so make sure to be nice and make her feel welcome!”

Sunny stood there for a silent moment and evaluated the class. Her smiled started to fade. She turned to Summer and whispered something in her ear, and without looking at the class once, Summer whispered back into Sunny's ear and then returned to staring down toward the floor.

“Okay,” Sunny began. “I can tell by the looks on some of your faces that you're wondering... um, well, you're probably curious why she isn't coming as apart of a _tribe._...” Sunny paused and looked over at Summer with an uncertain expression, but Summer didn't budge. “I'm sure a few of you have guessed it already, but Summer is a hybrid. Like myself. I mean, _really_ like myself.” She chuckled and promptly cleared her throat. “Summer is half Sandwing and half Nightwing.”

Summer's head moved up to face the class in tandem with the small gasp that had been emitted by the few students who'd not put the pieces together sooner.

Judging by the shyness she'd exhibited up until that moment, Winter had expected her to keep her eyes on her claws and to only look up to find her desk. If she did show the courage to meet their eyes, she'd look back at them shy, vulnerable, afraid, bashful, possibly even angry or defensive. Maybe charmingly or sweetly. He'd expected anything other than the expression she wore now. Anything other than that smile.

 _Why does she look so..._ confident _all of a sudden. Like she's mocking us. Like she is standing over us._

It was a look Winter knew too well from his days living with aristocrats who worshiped a wall. It was a look of 'I am better than you.'

Reflexively, his jaw tightened.

 _Of all the.... As soon as she walks in...! What gives her the right to-!_ His thoughts were cut short the moment she began moving to find a seat.

Another thing he'd learned from those high-on-the-wall types was that looks of mockery contorted as one walked; they changed as one looked from subject to subject, as one moved among the herd. Yet her eyes remained steady, and her smile soft, and with each gentle step she took, what he'd taken for mockery looked more like confidence—confidence crossed with... a sort of flagrant disinterest.

Winter studied her curiously as she moved closer to him.

_What a strange look. Why look up like that after pretending to be shy? Why make a face like THAT?_

His thoughts were cut short again. He pulled in a quick, silent breath as Summer moved in his direction, her eyes on the desk next to his. He watched her fixedly, staring with almost squinting eyes at the shape of that smile and the curves of her narrow snout....

She turned to face him.

**Snap!**

All eyes in the room turned in his direction. Winter stared down with dismay at the thick stick of snapped charcoal, half of it in his palm, half of it on the floor rolling in Summer's direction.

The room erupted with laughter.

Webs shook his head and sighed. “Again, Winter? I don't think I can get a thicker piece of charcoal than that. I don't think a thicker piece of charcoal _exists.”_ He sighed again. “You're just going to have to make due with what you have there.”

The class started to calm down, but a few students were still giggling. Winter looked down at the paper, quivering with anger, his cheeks blushing furiously.

“Perfect,” Summer said suddenly, all eyes turned to her. “I needed something to write with.” She bent down with the grace of a cheetah and lifted the chunk of charcoal from the ground. As she came up, her eyes met with Winter's. She wasn't smiling anymore, but she had a look about her. It conveyed something _similar_ to the smile from before, except now weightier and less blatant, and aimed specifically at him.

A few of the dragonets giggled.

Webs cocked a brow. “That's quite alright. I can get you a fresh piece, assuming you can hold it with a little less force than Blizzard-claws over here.”

Winter scowled at him, and now, imbued with new found anger, he scowled at all the mocking, silly faces looking at him.

“That's okay. _Blizzard-claws_ actually made it nice and cold. It should make it crisper, which should help my _abominable_ handwriting.”

Winter looked over at her, trying to hide his surprise.

“...I don't think it works that way,” Webs went on. “But, I don't really care either. Can we please just get on with the lesson?”

 _W-Wow...!_ Winter thought. _That was...._

A wave of anger and shame surged through him before he could finish the thought. His eye twitched with frustration and he nearly snapped the charcoal in his claws a second time.

_She had no right-! I don't need her... her charity!_

His teeth clenched. With one angry, determined motion, his head snapped in her direction, but he immediately regretted it. He saw her sitting there, looking down at her piece of paper, adjusting the charcoal in her talons, and suddenly it dawned on him—what was he supposed to say?

He felt as if he'd popped out of a bubble and was now suddenly in the room for the first time. His head snapped back down toward his paper.

_WHY DID I DO THAT? DID SHE NOTICE? DID ANYBODY ELSE NOTICE? WHY AM I PANICKING SO MUCH?_

But Summer didn't stir; nobody did. He swore he saw her head turn the slightest bit toward him, but he couldn't be sure, and he definitely wasn't turning toward her now to find out.

 _Summer._ He thought curiously.

_A half Sandwing, half Nightwing. Like Sunny._

_Like the future child of...._

He closed his eyes and pushed the thought from his head. He didn't know why, but it felt disgusting to think about, on a lot of levels. Instead of that, he would think about....

_Her... and that mysterious smile._

 


	2. Stickwalker

Chapter 2: Stickwalker

  
  


Winter turned his snout up toward one of the full moons and inhaled. The smell of pine wafted through the air like it always did near Jade mountain, but it was more aromatic at night--when it was cool out and there weren't ten million other silly dragons distracting him.

He sighed. Watching the moons always reminded him of... her. For awhile, especially when he'd been spending time out in Possibility and around Pyrrhia in search of scavenger dens, he'd found a lot of peace in staring up at those bright globes. Many peaceful nights he'd been lulled off to sleep by the blissful images the moonlight inspired, the thoughts of... redemption and second chances.

But it was just fantasy, he knew that. He'd always known it. It was just hard _accepting it._ If only it didn't have to be that way. If only he could either pull those perfect images out of his mind or crawl into his own head and live there... Would there be much of a difference?

It was times like these where he actually found himself envying Darkstalker. He always envied animus dragons and those with powers, but these were the only moments where he'd really let himself think about it.

_When did I become so pitiful?_ He wondered. _When did I lose my... nobility?_

He snorted.

_Maybe it was around the time I_ literally _lost my nobility._

He inhaled deeply again, again savoring the sweet scent of pine in the cool night air. Being cooped up in Jade mountain with the constant body heat and the insipid mutterings of the _happy_ dragons with homes, and parents, and lovers, and things to laugh about—it disgusted him more and more, day after day. He felt particularly jaded whenever somebody called him 'Blizzard-claws,' because apparently 'your claws are as cold and aggressive as your personality,' as one less-than-subtle Nightwing had pointed out with a laugh. Nor was he partial to 'Winty,' which Kinkajou had taken to calling him, and would have been almost acceptable had other dragons not adopted its use to annoy him.

He sighed again, and followed that up with another deep breath. Cool air and sweet, sweet pine, with just a subtle after hint of citrus. What a nice mixture....

_...Wait a minute, citrus?_

_“_ Oh, ho, ho.”

Winter's head jerked back to meet the origin of the familiar voice. A voice both sultry and deep, yet refreshing like a cool breeze and accented with all the wiles prevalent in the female pitch. “...Summer?”

“What are the chances? Going out for some fresh air and running into _Prince Winter.”_

He turned away. “I am no longer a prince.” He grumbled. “I'm afraid whoever told you that is... a bit out of the loop.”

She snorted. “I thought once a noble, always a noble...?”

Winter turned to face her with his shoulders straight, his brows raised, and his snout turned in a tight frown. He quickly looked her up and down, as if skeptical this ridiculous dragon could really be real. “Do you-”

She cut him off with a cacophony of laughter.

Winter startled. “W-Why are you laughing?”

“That face! For a moment I thought I was speaking to _King_ Winter. Ha ha ha!”

He turned away and sneered, his cheeks heating up. As much as it pained him to admit it, she was right—that had been the exact sort of demeanor he'd been trying to avoid since his falling out with the Icewings, and indeed that _exact_ expression was one of the more difficult gesticulations to discard.

_...And she brought it out of me in seconds._ He thought with both annoyance and curiosity.

“Anyway,” She perched next to him on the edge of the cliff. “You were saying?”

He sniffed proudly. “I was _saying,_ my father once told me 'you either live nobly, or you die nobly.' So no, once a noble, not necessarily always a noble.”

“Yeesh....” She said shifting uncomfortably. “Sounds like a real _happy-claws._ ”

_“_ Narwhal was anything _but_ a happy-claws. He was a noble, one of the most respected in the Ice Kingdom, which doesn't always translate to 'happy,' or even well-liked.”

“Hmm,” she put a thoughtful talon on her snout. “Did anybody like him?”

“I think my mom did. I know she... respected him. A lot of dragons respected him. The whole tribe did.”

“But did they like him? Did she?”

Winter paused. “I...I don't know, I....” He looked over at her intently. His face steadily turned to surprise, and then immediately into rage. “I-It doesn't matter! This is none of your business anyway!”

Summed smiled back at him. Winter waited for a response, but she stayed as quiet as a mouse, her snout still upturned into that maddening smile.

He stared at her, examining her, trying to figure how she could just ignore his _outrage._

_It's like the smile from before,_ Winter thought. _Mocking,_ invincible.... _But, it's gentle too, just gentle as it had been when she'd walked into history.... Ugghh._

He sighed. He'd opened his wings, prepared himself to stand up and march away, but he just didn't have the energy. If this girl wanted to sit next to him and make fun of him then let her. He didn't care.

His eyes turned back toward the moon and his wings drooped a bit. He inhaled again. The scent of pine still lingered in the air, but most of what he smelled now was citrus.

_Blocking the smell of the trees.... Irritating._

He inhaled again, this time longer, deeper, but careful to breathe as silently as possible.

She faced him. “Feel free to ignore me if this is a... trifling question? But could you tell me a little bit about the Kingdom of Ice?”

He turned toward her with a cocked brow. “You want to know about the Ice Kingdom? Why? What for?”

“Because I'm interested. I haven't gotten to talk to many Icewings, and they don't usually like talking about their homeland much....” She played with her talons and looked bashfully down at them. “I guess you might not want to talk about it either, but.... You were talking about it before, so I figured... that maybe...?” She smiled at him.

“Hmm,” Winter stared off in the dark abyss of the forests surrounding Jade academy.

_People don't usually ask me about the Ice Kingdom. They're usually fine with whatever they read in scrolls or hear from that_ barbarian _Webs, but she....”_

He turned to face her.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I'll tell you a bit about it. What do you want to know?”

“Hmm.... Oh! Was it cold there?”

Winter frowned, and she started to giggle.

“Sorry, sorry. Just tell me whatever you want. Whatever you think is most interesting about it. You'd know best, after all.”

“Hmm, that's true, I suppose I-” His voice caught in his throat. He paused, his body stiff. “A-Actually,” he turned to face Summer. “I know almost nothing about you. Like where you came from, for instance?”

Summer flinched a bit at the bite in his tone. “Oh, I guess I could-”

The sound of a stick clacking against the ground from behind caused her to go silent. They both looked back. Starlight moved with slow, edging steps out of the cave's mouth. He went straight for an old boulder and rested against it, as if he needed it for support.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Winter and Summer exchanged glances. Winter's heart was pounding but he wasn't sure why. For some reason, he dreaded the conversation he knew would come if Starlight didn't head back inside. Why did he feel like he was being caught-

“-Is somebody out here?”

Winter inhaled and looked at Summer, and a moment later, she answered:

“Yes, it's just us.”

“Ah. You sound like... Summer, right? Funny finding you out here.” He smiled softly, with the commanding respect fit for an elder dragon. “I hope you're not trying to escape from us already! If it was Tsunami, I promise you she gets easier to handle over time.”

Summer chuckled politely. “No, no, nothing like that.”

“That's good. And who is 'us?' Do you have company?”

“I am also here.” Winter added begrudgingly, trying not to sound too terribly begrudged.

“Oh my, here one day and already making friends with the royalty.... And hello, Winter, I assume you're being nice to our newest student?”

He snorted. “I'll have you know I have been extremely _cordial_. _”_ Winter added haughtily.

_“_ Oh, yes.” Summer added. “He's been a real charmer. He's only gotten blindly mad at me once in the last twenty seconds.”

Winter frowned at her. _That you know of...._

Starflight smiled. “Sounds like you're both hitting it off. If that is the case, I'll head back inside.”

Winter flushed and looked back and forth between Starflight and Summer. “Wh-What...?”

“You don't have to do that!” Summer said with her most polite tone. “You just came outside!”

“No, no. I just needed a little fresh air and a chance to stretch my legs. I'm alright now. You both make sure you're not out here too late—you have class tomorrow.”

“Yes, Starlight,” Summer replied, playing the part of the perfect student.

“...And... don't do anything dumb.” He smiled awkwardly and turned to walk away, one stick-guided step at a time.

Winter's chest puffed up and he nearly gasped. “I am not- _We_ are not-!” he stammered. “We are not going to do anything _dumb._ If, if _that_ is what you mean.”

Summer giggled.

“Good.” Starflight called back. “I'm holding you to that.”

“You don't-you don't have-!” Winter's teeth clenched. He reached out, as if to stop him, but immediately lowered his talon and sighed with frustration. He scooted about an inch away from Summer and turned to face the sky again. “I should really be heading inside soon. It's late.”

He waited for her to say something mocking, for her to turn the phrase around on him somehow and reduce him to the laughingstock he apparently was. To tease him about how he hadn't gone in yet, and about how he'd been blushing and stammering moments ago. Maybe she would work in an insult about how his claws were cold and abrasive-

“-Yeah,” she yawned. “Me too. I'm getting pretty tired.”

Winter looked over at her, his eyes glaring.

She got up and started to head back to the cave. “It was really nice talking to you Prince Winter. Next time make sure you tell me all about the Ice Kingdom, alright? You promised.”

“I did not promise,” he muttered, his eyes following her warily. “And stop calling me prince. I am a prince no longer.”

She laughed. “You prove it every time you open your snout. Once nobility, always nobility.”

He sighed as she walked back into the caves.

“Live nobly, or die nobly....” He said to himself. The image of Narwhal splayed out and bleeding on the battlefield appeared in his head. “...That is what nobility is.”

 


	3. Jambi

Chapter 3: Jambi

  
  


The first thing Winter did upon waking up on the following morning was lift his head and slouch there in a half risen position for about the ten seconds. The second thing he did was take a deep breath and let out a slow, annoyed sigh.

_Narwhal again...._

He'd never had recurring dreams in past, but as of late, his dreams had all begun to take on the same vibe. He was always trapped, and if not trapped, _compressed,_ tight, uncomfortable and anxious in some way.

It reminded him of the first time he'd ever been in a forest alone. He'd been a young dragonet and his brother Hailstorm had flown off for a few moments to check the perimeter. He'd stood there among the thick, forest-y growths, at first with a sense of duty—duty to be brave, even though he was scared, and duty to endure, even though he wanted nothing more than to be back among the familiar snow fall of his Kingdom--but soon, it seemed as if the forest had come to life.

The bushes and the trees swayed with the wind, and the cracking of sticks and bustling of small creatures amongst the leaves seemed to grow to a deafening volume. He'd started to walk forward, and then he'd started to jog. Within moments, he was sprinting through the growth, his chest heaving up and down, tears starting to run down his face. All the dark corners and crevices of the forest contorted into the shape of skywings.

By the time his brother had found him, he'd grown too tired to move, and he'd curled up in a cold little ball beneath some roots. It hadn't been long; he'd responded when Hailstorm had called for him. But he remembered that he'd begun to cry again when they were reunited. It was one of the only times he'd ever cried in front of his brother—and for that matter, in front of anybody.

He lost Hailstorm a few weeks after that event.

The dreams weren't always in the woods, but they always felt similar to that event. There was always a panicked motion and a sense of no escape; a sense that even if escape were reached, it would be ultimately for naught, because the true object of his terror and strife and anger was something utterly out of reach, and for that reason, utterly inescapable.

What made them worse and far more troubling was that these dreams nearly always included his father: sometimes worked into the dream so seamlessly and meticulously Winter had momentarily forgotten he was dead; other times, Narwhal would have seemingly nothing to do with the dream, yet the image of his dead body would flash in Winter's mind's eye, and it would accost him usually at the worst moments of the dream, or at the turning point, when a seemingly normal dream turned to chaos.

Though he almost never remembered the 'normal' parts. Only the chaos and the running and the panic.

_At least I'm getting used to it...._

He got up out of bed, the images of his dead dad and his panicked escape from the Icewing palace—the setting of his most recent dream—already beginning to fade away, to lie in wait until the next night.

He moved out of the sleeping cave, stretching and yawning as he moved toward the exit of the academy. There were only a few students who rose before him, but most of them spent their time in the library with Starflight, the Seawing pool, or in the prey center catching breakfast; so he could, for a few happy, non-claustrophobic moments a day, be as tall and stretch his icy wings as far as he wanted to.

Upon emerging from the cave, he turned his snout up into the wind. He took in a deep, nearly chilly, pine-scented breath.

_The cold season is almost here._ He thought. _I wonder if that'll make me feel better..._

He dove from the side of the cliff and spread his wings. He soared through the air for a few moments, disappointed by how warm it still was, but happy there was at least a slight chill. He moved back toward the mountain, except now he arched up, heading to where he always did when he woke up early.

He kept moving skyward, closer and closer to the clouds. He stayed against the mountain, following the rocky incline up to a cliff, which quickly flattened out into a small valley which led to another hilly incline—this one far smaller.

_Wait a second, is... is someone up here already?_ He could see someone in the distance, perched on the flat, rocky peak at the top. _Another Icewing? But who else knows about this spot?_

And then the unique shape of the dragon at the top turned to face him, and he knew instinctively who it was. He could see that strange smile without seeing it, and he could already smell the citrus perfume she seemed to keep on hand.

He landed next to the strange girl, looking at her with an arched brow, keeping a safe distance between them.

“Are you following me?” He asked warily.

She smiled. _“_ I was just about to ask you the same question.”

“Yes, well.... I come up here every morning.”

“You weren't up here yesterday.”

Winter jolted a bit. “Y-Yes, I guess that's true. But how would _you_ know that?”

“Because I _was_. And I didn't see you.”

He squinted at her. “...Why? Didn't you come in late? How could you have been up here early in the morning?”

“I came in late, yes. But I didn't _arrive_ late. In Possibility we have an old saying about things not always being as they appear—Oh, yeah. It goes, 'things aren't always as they appear.' I try to live by that old piece of wisdom.”

Winter snorted and turned to look out on the landscape. “You also have an old saying about two lines not making a square.”

“...Ah ha, clever boy. Been to Possibility, have you? I guess somehow I didn't expect that from royalty, but it was foolish of me to put _anything_ past you.... Anyway, I've also heard that the triangle is the most powerful shape in nature. I believe I heard that from an Icewing.”

He turned to face her again. “And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Not in Possibility long enough, it seems....” Her smile turned wry. “What you said means I only gave you half of the full picture, right? Well, my response means that the two lines I gave you _should_ be enough for you to make a triangle—assuming you can use your head and add a line yourself--and if triangles are the most powerful shape in nature, do you really even need a square? You have what you need, and that is that.”

“I do not have what I need! You've told me nothing. All you've done is... _babble_ _on_ about shapes and sayings and Possibility.”

Summer laughed. “Fine, fine, I'll just tell you then.... The truth is I didn't feel much like going to class. Actually, to be honest with you, I was considering leaving Jade Academy.”

Winter's face softened a bit. “Oh. I see.... You could have just told me that. Instead of dragging it out....” They sat in silence for a few moments. Winter could tell Summer was looking at him and smiling. “So, uh, why were you going to leave?”

“Do you mean why was I considering it?” She turned to face her claws. “I....” She paused for a long moment. “I'm... more comfortable in Possibility, I guess. Not used to all this. All these... dragons.”

“Wasn't Possibility much busier, though? The time I spent there was rather chaotic, actually.”

“Yes, but... there is something different about the chaos in Possibility. It's... honest. You know what you're in for, in the sense you _don't_ know what you're in for. But everybody knows that; everybody is on the same wavelength. That's just... how Possibility is.”

“Hmm, I guess so.” Winter turned to face the landscape again. He spread his wings a few inches, letting the cold air whip through them.

“That didn't make any sense, did it?” She asked wryly.

“No, not a bit.”

She laughed, and Winter couldn't help but smile a bit in return. “But, somehow, I think I know what you mean.”

She looked up at him meaningfully. “Oh? And what do I mean?”

“It's just like you said. You know what it's about there. It's honest. There's no... game being played. Nobody putting on an act or trying to act a certain way. But at the same time, everybody is doing just that, maybe even more. But it's just... different there. Everybody 'get's' it.”

She regarded him with an amused smile. “It sounds like you really like Possibility.”

“No, it sounds like _you_ really like it.”

Her smiled widened. “And your thoughts?

“It was... okay. It would take time for me to adjust.”

“Ah. So like it says in the old Nightwing plays: 'your heart lies elsewhere?'

Winter snorted. “I don't know if I'd say....” He turned to face her. “Wait. The Nightwings didn't invent that saying... did they?”

“They did. I am confident it came from an old play. Pre-Darkstalkian.”

“Oh....” He frowned. “I was always told it came from us. We have a myth that-” he abruptly stopped talking. “Where it came from doesn't matter. I just thought it came from us.”

Summer looked at him curiously. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Nothing at all.” He looked out on the landscape with an alert, stoic expression, like the guard of citadel. “But no. For your information, my heart does not 'lie elsewhere.' Not anymore.”

A few silent moments passed. Winter had begun to believe she had no plans on responding until the sound of her voice, more sultry and deep and caring than usual began to waft over the rasping, citrus-scented wind.

“Do you really believe that, Prince Winter?”

He jolted.

_What did she just ask me? What did she just_ call me? _Does she.... Does she really think she has a right to talk to me like that? Her of all people? Or maybe it's just some kind of trick—for information. Yes. Yes, that's it. It's just a trick for her to get under my scales._

He sat there for several moments, too shocked to move. By the time he whipped around to give her what for, he was beginning to tremble with an emotion not completely unlike outrage. But when he whipped around, she was gone.

He looked down the mountain, toward the entrance of Jade Mountain. He found her in the sky, flapping around playfully, like a dragonet flying for the first time.

“Come on, _Prince Winter._ I don't want to be late for class again.”

Without waiting for a response, she flew down toward the entrance.

Winter growled at her. What annoyed him the most was not her silly antics, or her increasingly snouty questions, but the fact he could not stay mad when she did something irritating.

_It just makes me SO. MAD._ He stamped his foot a couple times to accompany the thought, in an attempt to justify and revive his prior anger, but by the time he'd taken flight and begun to head toward the entrance, the anger had become nothing more than a mild annoyance. By the time he landed next to her tall, curvy form, which waited for him patiently on the cliff-side, it'd all but left him entirely.

 


	4. Onomatology

# Chapter 4: Onomatology

 

Winter wiped his snout. Oily liquid run down his face, so he buried his head in the warm water to help wash it off. He was usually more into eating mammals, but the academy had no access to the sorts of mammals he wanted, so as of late, he'd found the fish eaten mostly by the Seawings to be more to his liking.

Granted, the fish down here were more.... tropical than the ones from the Ice kingdom, but it was more about the nostalgia, and it wasn't like the screeching of boars and occasional zebras being ripped to shreds made him feel any more at home.

He lifted his snout to the air and watched the other dragons fly around, from rocky ledge to rocky ledge, hunting the variety of animals and beast miraculously kept on hand by the prophecy dragonets and their administration.

He frowned, not at what he saw, but in general. A general look of displeasure, for a sight of general dislike. He snorted in spite of himself.

_I'm afraid I'm turning into Flame...._

He'd have laughed had the statement not rung so true.

A deep orange dragon swooped across his line of sight. She moved like a cheetah, like always, and she seemed to dwarf the other dragons—not just with her tall, powerful frame, but with her confidence. He'd heard her say to another student that she was a bit older than them; in fact, she was on the cusp of adulthood. But comparatively speaking, she was still young, and even to someone younger than her like Winter, it was obvious that her experience and grace far exceeded her age.

She dived down and grabbed a sheep with both claws, and then flew off with it, heading for one of the rocky ledges.

“Hey!” A Nightwing called after her. “No fair!”

She just smiled like she always did and called back: “Early dragon gets the salmon!” And then she flew off, landed on the ledge, and bit into it.

The Nightwing stared at her for a few moments, watching her with an expression Winter couldn't completely discern, but he knew it wasn't anger. If he had to guess, it was awe of some sort.

Winter bristled.

_Take your eyes off her you dirty ash sniffer._

He jolted, surprised at the intensity of his reaction. He looked away from the Nightwing, up to Summer, and then he looked away from her too. He was a bit appalled at himself for thinking such a harsh breed-nominative, but that wasn't what disturbed him the most about the sudden, explosive thought.

_Why do I even care...?_ He turned away, a sour expression on his face.

He turned back toward the pond and stared at his reflection. Occasionally he looked up, that same look on his face, and he watched as other dragons avoided him. Not like he could blame them.

_If I look anything like this dragon in the water, I'd avoid me too...._ He thought disdainfully.

_“_ Looking as cheery as ever Prince Win-Oh, sorry.”

He turned to face the familiar voice.

She laughed haughtily. More haughtily than Winter could ever manage. Like an old Anemone sort of haughtiness. “I meant to say _Exile Blizzard-claws.”_

“Mmm...” Winter groaned. “Iceberg. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, it's nothing!” She waved a talon. “I just thought I'd come by and see how everybody's favorite _exile_ is doing. How is Jade academy treating you? From what Starspawn has told me you've been in _high_ spirits.”

“It has been treating me fine.” Winter clenched his teeth and turned away. He began sifting through the water for fish, but he let them all slip away. He'd lost his appetite.

Starspawn, the male Icewing standing next to Iceberg (comically about half her height) laughed. “Iceberg, did I tell you about Prince Winter's new toy?” He croaked.

Winter's head reflexively jerked toward Starspawn, much to Iceberg's delight. He looked at them with wary confusion. “What 'toy?' What are you talking about?”

“Hmm, a new toy.” Iceberg mused. “Let me think.... Oh! I believe you have, but could you remind me? Who was it again?”

_'Who...?'_ Winter clenched his talons. _They couldn't possibly mean-_

“-It was the new dragon. The hybrid, Summer.”

Winter felt his scales begin to warm up. Partially with embarrassment, partially with a swampy, fiery feeling that churned deep in his joints.

“Oh, that was it! The hybrid. The one that's part... Nightwing, correct?”

“That would be the one,” Starspawn answered dutifully.

“Hmf, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised! We all know how much Winter loves his Nightwings!”

“Shut up!” Winter barked, drawing a few eyes in their direction.

“Ha! No need to be embarrassed, little exile. After all, you were exiled for a reason. Be proud of who you-”

“-Little?! I'm _older_ than you!”

“Yes, a bit.” She smiled mockingly, “but you're worth _so_ much less.”

Winter growled, hoping his rage would mask just how much that statement had stung.

“...Tell me something, Prince Blizzard-claws,” Starspawn began. “Just how _into_ hybrids are you?”

“Wh...What?!”

“You heard him,” Iceberg added with a laugh. “Do you have a little thing for hybrids? How _adorable._ Little Winter, betrayer of the Icewings. Turns out he likes his Nightwings with a bit of _pollution._ ” She said this last word with as much venom as she could muster, her face contorting a bit as the word slid slowly and grossly from her snout.

Winter's eyes widened. At first, he took a step back, in shock. Not even Iceberg could be this foul. Not even _she_ could hate him _this much._ And then he stepped forward. His jaw quivered with rage and his body trembled. He took a second step forward.

_I'm... I'm going to..._

He involuntarily took in a large swath of air.

_No.... No, I can't. I can't do that. Not to my own relation, not to another Icewing. Not after everything that's happened.... But... I have to do something.... Something. Anything. I can't let them talk about me like this! I can't let them talk about_ her _like this...._

Winter exhaled a long, quivering breath.

_But if I can't fight, and I can't run...._

Suddenly, he felt trapped. Claustrophobic, as if he'd been transported into one of his dreams. Except while awake he was alert, consciousness, completely aware of his own _helplessness._

His chest started to hurt. The same way it hurt whenever he was alone at night, on the dark nights when the moons weren't out, when the images of his dead father assaulted his mind, when images of his brother and the few times his mother Tundra had shown him love swept through his mind, like mist, untouchable, unreachable, only further distorted by the attempts to make contact. It was the same pain he felt when he thought of the snow all around him or of the moon globe tree. The same pain he felt when he saw the image of Moon's globe sized eyes and the silver tear drops contrasting brilliantly with her dark scales. When he saw her smile, when he smelled her scent, when he heard her laugh, even when he saw her cry.

His shoulders pulled inward a bit, and he couldn't get his talons to stop shaking. And for some reason, his chest hurt _so much._

_But I... can't let them.... see me...._

“Shut up!” He screamed, loud enough to startle Starspawn and Iceberg. “I am _Winter!_ Not 'Little Winter,' not 'Prince Blizzard-claws,' and not 'Prince Winter!' Just. _Winter_. And no, I do not _love_ hybrids! I do not _have a thing_ for them _!_ I don't love Nightwings, I don't love Sandwings, and I _definitely_ do _not_ love-”

“- _Ahem._ ” There was a loud clearing of the throat from behind him, and then a familiar voice speaking in a dry staccato: “Go on. Finish that thought.”

He flipped around to meet her gaze.

_No.... No! Not now! Why_ now _of_ all _times?!_

His chest heaved with anger and emotion, and no matter how much he fought it, he could feel his eye sight blurring a bit, as if filtered through moisture.

“What don't you love, Winter?” She neared him, no discernible expression on her face, her eyes staring deep into his.

_Can she tell? She can tell, can't she?_ He blinked, hard, hoping the world would miraculously become pristine and clear again. He would do _anything_ to make the moisture in his eyes disappear.

“I....”

“You said you didn't love hybrids, Nightwings, _or_ Sandwings.” She pressed. “What else don't you love, Winter? --Don't let me interrupt.”

He could see Starspawn and Iceberg exchanging glances ripe with melodramatic excitement.

_What do I say? Why did she have to be there? Why did she have to_ hear... _?_

“I.... I....”

_I can't speak.... What's wrong with me? Why can't I say anything? Why can't I just say what I was going to say before she walked up?_

“I... I....”

_And... why do I feel this way? Why I feel so... relieved._

He hadn't said it. He'd come close. He'd said everything but. But he hadn't said _that._ Not in front of her, not behind her back, _not at all._ Those poor tasting words had never left his snout, and he felt all the better for it.

“I-I... I don't....”

“What don't you love, Winter?” She repeated, that same blank expression on her face, her eyes still locked with his. “Is it rude, self-absorbed aristocrats who think they own the world?”

“...Wh-”

“-Is it terrible Icewings who make their entire tribe look bad?”

“I-”

She turned to face Starspawn and Iceberg. “-Is it spoiled, immature _dragonets,”_ she started to take long, meaningful steps toward them, “who don't know how to keep other people's names out of their _snouts_?”

She stopped one inch from Iceberg and looked her straight in the eyes. For several moments, Iceberg and Starspawn stood there, too shocked too move.

Iceberg took a tentative step back and smiled awkwardly. “What's wrong, Winter? Need a girl to fight your-”

“-This isn't _about,_ Winter.” Summer took another step forward. “As I recall, you were talking about _me._ And if you're wondering, no, I don't need a man to fight _my_ battles.”

Again, Iceberg took another tentative step back, but she didn't smile this time. “What are you going to do, hybrid? Stab me with your stub of a tail spike?”

“No, but I'd be happy to shove it down your throat to shut you up.”

Starspawn took a step forward. “You better watch what you say to-”

“-Shut up!” Summer cut him off. “Mind your own business, _Starspawn_.” She snorted. “What kind of name is that, anyway? 'Star-Spawn.' What kind of _true_ Icewing has a Nightwing name?--No, I take that back. That's too _tacky_ to be a Nightwing name. At least they have some subtlety.” A few of the dragons watching the event unfold chuckled.

Starspawn bristled. “H-How dare you! Starspawn is _not_ a Nightwing name! It's referring to-”

“-Oh, shut up. Do you really think I care?”

He growled. “...Take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“Take back what you said about my name!”

Summer snorted. “Yeah, or what?”

“You're going to regret this, hybrid!” Iceberg suddenly barked, bits of frost breath seeping out from her snout.

“Oh, I am?” Summer leaned in closer to Iceberg's face. “What are you gonna do, _Icicle?_ You gonna kill me?”

There was a small gasp from the dragons around them, Winter included. Both Starspawn and Iceberg jolted.

“How-How dare you-!” Iceberg stammered.

“-Listen.” Summer said, her voice low and serious. “If you try something, _I'm_ not the one who's going to regret it. You won't be the first Icewing I've had to-”

“-What is _going on_ in here?” Clay rushed into the prey center, directly toward the epicenter of the chaos. “Alright, alright! Everybody break it up! Go back to your hunting and your eating, and your, your _not_ watching fights happen.”

Sunny swooped in a moment later.

Summer backed away from Iceberg, locking her own eyes with hers for several more moments.

“Sorry,” she said, turning to face Clay. “I guess things got a little out of hand.”

“It looks like they got a little more than that,” he said. His eyes trailed around, going from Summer, to Starspawn and Iceberg, to Winter, and then back to Summer. “What exactly went on in here?”

“We were having a private conversation with my cousin when this _barbarian_ decided to fly over and verbally _accost_ us!” Iceberg yelled, her voice trembling with rage.

Starspawn nodded rapidly in agreement.

Summer snorted and crossed her talons.

“Okay, I don't know what 'accost' means, but it doesn't sound good.” Clay turned to Summer. “Is what Iceberg's saying true? Did you accost her?”

“It's partially true. I-”

“-See! She admits it! She admits we were telling the truth!” Iceberg yelled.

“Shut up, boar-snout. I said _partially._ ”

Iceberg grabbed her snout with a look of utter shock. “I do NOT have a-”

“-Hey, hey! Come on, can you both please stop? Just tell me what happened. Iceberg, you already got a chance to speak. It's Summer's turn.” Clay turned back to Summer. “Now tell me your side of the story.”

“Like I was saying,” She went on smoothly. “Iceberg and Starspawn were having a delightful conversation with Winter about what I imagine were happy family dinners and how much they absolutely _adore_ each other, when somehow I became the topic of the conversation. It turns out hybrids are a pretty popular point of discussion these days.... Anyhow, Iceberg and Starspawn were mentioning me and I only came over to _defend myself_ against their slander. But I apologize if I... maybe overreacted a... _teensy_ bit.” She held up her talons to give a physical display of just how teensy her overreaction had been.

“It was a bit more than a 'teensy bit....'” Clay said with a sigh.

“Thinking back, that... may be true.” Summer admitted bashfully. “Sometimes I get a little heated up.”

“I guess so.” Clay rubbed his forehead. “Look, nobody got hurt, and nobody actually _fought._ I don't think anybody needs to get in trouble here, but this needs to _stop._ After last year.... Yeah, it just needs to stop, alright, guys? If you have a problem, come to me, or Sunny, or to any of the teachers and we'll help you work it out.” He looked up. “This goes to all of you up there sneaking around trying to overhear, too! No fighting!”

A few dragons jolted and flew off.

“Of course.... I'm... really sorry. I know I'm here as a guest, it was wrong of me to react like that. I just couldn't help it.”

Winter regarded Summer with a bit of astonishment. She seemed legitimately regretful.

“It's fine, Summer.” Clay put a talon on her shoulder. “Just don't let it happen again, and try to keep away from Iceberg and Starspawn. And the same goes for the two of you. Stay away from Summer. If I have to deal with this again, it's not going to end with a few slaps on the back.”

“Pft.” Iceberg trudged off without another word, Starspawn following close at her tail, muttering about hybrids and Nightwings and Queen Snowfall.

Winter watched the entire event go down with a strange feeling of emptiness. Occasional glances came to meet him, sometimes random dragons, sometimes Clay or Sunny as they evaluated the situation, or pondered how he had _doubtlessly_ caused it all.

The moment they left, Winter flew out the side of the prey center without so much as a glance toward anyone. He started toward the top of the mountain, toward the small plateau he often visited during the morning time.

He looked back when he got a slight distance away, to make sure nobody in specific was following him.

He sighed with relief when he realized he was alone.

And then he sighed again.

 


	5. The Summer Snake

**Chapter 5: The Summer Snake**

  
  


Winter spent most of his evening in the library reading scrolls that involved scavengers—since he'd read all the ones Jade Academy had that were _about_ them. He wanted to get his mind off other dragons, to forgot the events that had gone on earlier that day, to forget that he had to continue to deal with Iceberg and Starspawn, to forget he was an exile, and just generally forget he was alive at all.

But every few minutes gave way to a different daydream, some reminiscent of day dreams he'd had before, others presumptuous and prophetic. Each reverie came a bit quicker than the last, until it got to the point he was hardly reading at all.

He put away his final scroll sometime late in the evening. After Starflight and presumably most of the other dragonets in the academy had gone to bed. He left the library and headed toward his sleeping cave.

_I should just get some sleep. I'll be able to deal with this all better tomorrow... but...._

He paused, and a moment later, began moving again.

_Yeah. Sleep. That's all I need. A good night's rest. No reason to go out there anyway. Wouldn't do any good...._

_Then again...._

He paused again, but continued on soon after.

_She probably isn't out there. Not that I would go out there just to see her. But if she was out there and I went out there, that'd be pretty convenient. Would eat two birds with one snout. ...But do I really need to talk to her anyway? But is this even about that? I just want to go out there for the fresh air; I could really use some fresh air._

He paused again, and swallowed. He began moving forward.

_I still have some time to decide. I'm probably just going to go to bed. I should just go to bed. But that air sounds nice. And I'd sleep better with the fresh air—and if she was out there, I'd sleep better knowing we'd... gotten everything 'out in the open.' Not that 'everything' is 'anything' at all. Just the basic stuff. To clear the air about what was said in the prey center. But again, this isn't about_ her. _It's about some cool, fresh air._

He arrived at the fork that separated the hallways: one leading to the exit of Jade Academy; the other leading to the sleeping caves.

He kept moving straight. He'd made up his mind.

_Some fresh air sounds REALLY good right now._

He moved a bit quicker.

_It's so late, though...._

He fiddled with his talons.

_I should have gone earlier._

He swallowed.

_Maybe I could wake her up—No, no, no, this isn't about her. Not. About. Her. This is just about FRESH AIR._ He inhaled. _MMM, YES, IT'S ALREADY GETTING FRESHER. CAN REALLY TASTE THAT FRESH AIR._

He reached the cave entrance and walked out into the night.

He could smell her before he saw her.

She was sitting in the same spot they'd sat last time, her expression warm and calm, and her eyes looking out over Jade Forest.

_Alright, Winter, here it comes. Your two birds with one snout. Just play it cool. Don't say anything dumb or she'll back you in a corner. Just be smooth._

He snorted and she tilted her head back to regard him. “Is this where you say you were expecting me?” He asked snarkily.

_Immediately instigating a fight.... Smooth._

“No,” she said amused. “This is where I say I was _hoping_ to see you, because I haven't seen you all day and we should probably talk about what happened.”

Winter frowned. “I don't need your charity, and I don't need you fighting my battles. I can take care of myself.”

“Winter, I didn't fight your battle. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Iceberg and Starspawn _still_ hate you. Actually, they probably hate you more now.”

Winter frowned harder. “Well, if you were _trying_ to fight my battle you sure didn't do a very good job.”

She laughed. “Wow, I never thought I'd see the day. A joke from the stoic Prince Winter.”

“I'm no longer a prince.” He perched next to her and stared off into the distance. “Don't you listen?”

“And I told you once a noble is always a noble. Were you listening to that?”

“A prince and a noble are not exactly the same thing. A dragon carries nobility; they _die_ with it.”

_Why am I talking to her like this? Why are we just... conversating? Didn't I came out here for air? For fresh air? To_ clear _the air?_

“Ooo, how dramatic.” She smiled wryly. “But I guess that only supports my point.”

“Your point...?”

“That once a noble, always a noble. If you die with it, I suppose it isn't going anywhere anytime soon.”

Winter growled.

_I shouldn't be enjoying this. I shouldn't be... putting up with this. I... I'm not out here to have a friendly discussion; I'm here to talk about what happened earlier, and to... to clear the air._

“Heh, don't worry. It's a good thing, isn't it? Who cares about all that other stuff like titles. You're a noble. Not one by blood, but by the way you act. It's the _dragon you are inside._ ” She grinned at him.

He stared off into the distance.

_She really likes me... doesn't she?_

_...No, that's impossible. I don't even_ know _this dragon._

“Do you... really think so?”

_I need to stop this. I need to stop playing along. I know her secret. I know it for sure, but... I don't want to stop._

_“_ I do think so. I think... you're the most noble dragon here, Winter. I knew it the moment I saw you. The way you sat there, tall and aristocratic.” She giggled.

_I want this to be real so badly. I want this to not be a... trick. But it is. I know it is. Someone like this? Someone THIS amazing feeling this way about me? About ME_? _It's just... not possible. No matter how much I want it to be._

“Hey, Summer,” Winter asked, his head still aimed toward the forest. “Do you like me?”

He saw her tighten from his peripheries. She swallowed, and for a moment, it felt like the only thing Winter could hear was the sound of her heart, that the only thing he could smell was the scent of citrus wafting off her scales.

“I do.” She said, trying to force her voice above a whisper. “I knew it the moment you broke the charcoal. I knew the second it snapped that I....” Her voice trailed off, but he could tell she was staring at him.

His thoughts bombarded him like a waterfall. An ocean of incomplete feelings and ideas, none of them making any sense. The only thing that made sense now was the growing feeling of rage in his now rising, now quivering talons. The only truth he felt was the deep inhalation of air and sudden starkness of everything he saw in his widening eyes.

“...W-Winter...?”

“Do you take me for some kind of _joke?”_ He stood.

She looked up at him, uncertain. “Wh-”

“-Well I'm not! I'm not a joke! I might be an exile and a _reject_ , but I am NOT a joke! You think you're clever, don't you?” He extended an accusatory talon in her direction. “You think you could _trick me_ into giving up Icewing secrets. Or maybe you thought you could... could lure me into it. That you could _seduce_ me. Ha!”

Summer rose slowly, a look of shock and confusion on her face.

“Yeah. _Yeah._ I figured it out. I found out you're a spy, but the real question is for who? For what reason?”

“Winter, what are you-”

“Don't try to deny it! Don't even try! Just admit it, it'll make it easier for both of us.”

“I-I don't know what you're talking about!”

“Then why did you take such an interest in me? In _me_ of all dragons?”

“I-”

“-Obviously it was to get information. Obviously it was to take advantage of the poor old desperate exiled prince. Prince Winter, the case for pity,” he laughed, “the _betrayer_ of Icewings, apparently.”

“Winter,” she said growing serious. “You should really calm d-”

“-The _spy_ wants me to calm down? What I should be doing is _capturing you._ ”

“...Is that a threat?”

“Ha. It should be a threat. But it's not, because _technically_ you haven't done anything wrong—not yet at least.”

“Not yet....” She whispered with tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Why are you doing this...?”

“I'm not the one at fault here,” he said, his voice lowering a bit. “You played a good part. You just... took it too far. I figured you out.”

“J-Just, shut up. Shut up and get away from me.” She turned away and headed for the entrance of the cave.

Winter turned toward her with wide eyes, as if to call out in anger, but his snout wouldn't respond. It remained shut, his teeth clenched now, and clenching tighter by the second.

His chest hurt, so he took in a deep breath, but the expansion of his lungs only made his chest hurt worse. And when he exhaled, that made it hurt worse too.

_Why do I feel bad? SHE'S the spy! I'm the VICTIM here. She USED me, and she LIED to me._

He marched over to the cliff and sat. He stared off into the woods, his talons grinding together rapidly, heat flushing from his cold head.

_I KNOW she's a spy. She HAS to be. But she put on a good 'I'm innocent' act. I'd expect no less. I saw what Qibli's mom could do—that wasn't bad, but she didn't have anything on Summer. Summer's was amazing. Everything about Summer is-_

His clenched his teeth harder.

_The Summer I saw was a lie. The only thing the real Summer is capable of is lying, and she is really good at that._

He thought back to what she'd said:

 

_Heh, don't worry. It's a good thing, isn't it? Who cares about all that other stuff like titles. You're a noble. Not one by blood, but by the way you act. It's the dragon you are inside._

 

_She really put it on thick...._

He frowned a bit.

_It's a shame it couldn't be real. I guess it's not all that crazy to think someone might feel that way about me. But someone so... perfect? No, she was TOO perfect. It just doesn't make sense._

Winter dragged his talons against the stone below.

_...Right? It doesn't make sense, right? It's impossible._

He stood up and turned around to face the cave entrance, his eyes wide. And then he turned away, looked at rocky ledge for some time, and then perched again on the cliff-side.

_It has to be. It has to be impossible. She HAS to be a spy. SHE IS._

He felt his breathing picking up. He swallowed hard. He thought back to what she'd said when he'd asked her if she liked him:

_I do. I knew it the moment you broke the charcoal. I knew the second it snapped that I...._

 

Winter growled.

_The moment it snapped, huh? How romantic. How perfect for you to know just then. Like you weren't spying the first day, like that wasn't why you were late! Like I'm some kind of IDIOT._

He snorted.

_She must really take me for a fool._

_'It's a good thing, isn't it?'_

_I'm no idiot._

_'Who cares about titles?'_

_I don't care about them, but I know they matter._

_'You're a noble, but not by blood.'_

_She thinks I'M a noble. Ha! What a joke.... That's all the past now...._

_'It's the dragon you are on the inside.'_

_What a joke._

_'It's the dragon you are on the inside.'_

_She has to be a spy._

_'It's the dragon you are on the inside.'_

_SHE IS._

_'It's the dragon you are on the inside.'_

_Imagine if she wasn't...._

He almost snorted.

_Imagine if I was wrong...._

_Imagine if...._

_...She IS a spy, right?_

_She has to be...._

_But what if she's not?_

Winter swallowed and brought his wings in close.

_I did something good, didn't I? This was... the right thing. I could have just gone with it and had fun, but I made the RIGHT choice. How could I let her call me noble if I was gonna go and let her pry secrets out of me—and she was so good, making me talk about myself. She was clever and smart, and CLAWS was she pretty._

_And she liked ME._

_Obviously a spy.... But if she was a spy, then why do I feel so sick? Why do I feel like throwing up? Why do I want to wrap myself up in my wings and fall over and never get up again? Is this what other dragons feel when they're in the Kingdom of Ice? Is this what the cold feels like?_

_Why do I feel so cold?_

_And why do I feel so hot?_

_Why do I feel so sick?_

His mind went silent for a bit. He stared off into the forest, occasionally ruminating the same old lines of thought, but always sinking back into a cold, silent abyss of mind.

He held his talons up in front of his face.

_Blizzard-claws. Because your claws are as cold and aggressive as your personality._

He felt heavy, warm tears rise up in his eyelids. He pulled his wings in closer as his vision went misty.

_What if she isn't a spy...?_

_What if she just really likes me?_

Winter took a deep breath and blinked heavily, causing a single tear to overflow down on to his cheek.

_Oh claws, what have I done...?_

 


	6. That Is All

**Chapter 6: That Is All**

  
  


  
  


 

Winter woke up the next morning with his talons over this eyes.

_My head is pounding...._

He sat up there on his bed for about a minute, a frown painted across his face. All of his clawmates had left the sleeping cave to head to class—all except Trout, the Seawing who joined him in their added on little corridor, who slept in a small, artificial pool directly across from Winter.

He watched Winter out of the corner of his eye, while spitting a stream of water out of his mouth, up into the air, letting it rain down on him.

Winter stifled a shudder. The water would immediately be cleaned by the animus filter, but still, it was gross to watch.

“Morning, Winter,” Trout replied in his usual, sing-songy tone. “You're up late.”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like you have a headache, too.”

“Yes.”

“Weird. I don't think I've ever seen you with a headache before.”

“I don't get them often.”

“Any idea what caused it?”

“No....”

“Oh, I think I know what it was. Did you have the bad dreams ag-”

“- _No.”_ Winter replied sternly, causing him to go silent. Trout slowly turned his eyes toward the roof of his little bath, the same uninterested expression plastered on his face.

But it was true. There'd been no dreams the night before; at least none that Winter remembered. The thought made the familiar image of his father splayed out on the ground in a pool of icy blood surge through his mind.

Winter sighed and forced himself up. “If you don't leave soon you're gonna be late.”

Trout smiled absentmindedly. “Thanks, dad.”

Winter flinched.

The only reason he'd ever told Trout about the dreams was because he'd been awoken by them one night, and Trout had been awake—for whatever reason—when it happened. Winter had been breathing heavyly and clutching his chest, and according to Trout, he'd awoken with a gasp.

But he'd never told Trout anything more. Not the frequency of the dreams, nor of their contents. Trout's comment had been innocuous, but it was still disturbing, and considering the lingering visage of a dead Narwhal in his mind, difficult to stomach without reacting.

Winter took a deep breath and moved out the sleeping cave. He had plenty of reasons to get mad at Trout, but this was not one of them. He was in no mood to be angry anyway.

He moved toward class, torn between moving slowly out of fear, and moving quickly out of a desire to just get it over with. His eyes scanned the hallway for Summer.

_I have to do something about this. I HAVE to. But after..._ that _, how am I supposed to even talk to her? I called her a spy for liking me.... Claws I am stupid._

_But... what if she actually IS a spy?_

He clenched his talons and pushed the thought away.

_I don't think I could get any STUPIDER if I tried._

An image of Moon passed through his mind. Her soft features and delicate wings and her beautiful tear drop birth marks.

_How much is your stupidity going to cost you, Winter?_

When he arrived at history, he stood outside the door as the other dragonets poured in. A few of them glanced up at him curiously, but he ignored it and kept looking ahead, using his nose to make sure those citrus scented scales didn't slip by.

When he saw Summer approaching, he straightened out his back and put on the most aloof expression he could muster, except he knew immediately that his attempt to be exceptionally aloof had made him look exceptionally _royal_. But he kept the expression on his face, despite the embarrassment.

_Maybe if I look like this, it'll make her laugh...._

But she didn't laugh. She didn't even make eye contact with him. Reflexively, Winter followed her in, dutifully silent. She looked back long enough to register that he was there, and that he'd been waiting for her, but she turned away an instant later.

They took their seats. Summer kept her head down, her eyes on the paper in front of her. It wasn't like it'd been before, when she'd look over at him, sometimes on her own, sometimes to meet his own wandering, curious gaze. Now it seemed as if she took no notice of him at all—it was as if he didn't even exist.

_Okay, so she is ignoring me. That's fine. It's better than being actively hated... right?_

He looked down at his empty sheet of paper and frowned.

_If this is better, then why do I feel so bad...?_

He'd expected a sneer at some point, maybe a face to show her disgust. Maybe even a few mean words to show her new found hatred for him. To show she now knew what everybody else had known for a long time--how awful he was.

He'd have even accepted disappointment.

_Why not disappointment?_ He thought. _Disappointment I can handle. Disappointment I am used to.... But this?_

_No,_ he thought a moment later. _I am used to not existing too. It's just a little worse._

He looked over at Summer multiple times during Web's lecture. At first out the corner of his eye, to see if maybe she was peering back at him. She never was.

Her eyes went from the paper, to Webs, back to the paper. According to his observations, the closest she'd come to looking at him had been the one time she'd looked over at the charcoal in her talons.

_Damn it!_ He thought, his own talons tightening with rage. _This is torture! I want to SAY something. I HAVE to!_

_...But what do I say? I have to apologize to her, somehow... but, is that even enough? Is it even possible at this point? After what I did.... Claws, it was detestable. And it's not like I can apologize here, in the middle of class, in front of all these dragons...._

_Or can I...?_

He looked around the classroom, at the all the blank, plebeian faces.

_Would she... like that? Would it make up for what I did? If I made a very... embarrassing public apology?_

He clenched his teeth.

_I don't know if she would. If I knew it'd make her forgive me, I'd do it in a second. But she might hate it. What if it embarrasses_ her _? Or worse yet, what if it scares her? I don't want to seem like some kind of maniac._

He sighed silently.

_Come on, Winter. You're a prince. At least you WERE one. Do something grand, something smart, something...._ He sighed again and blushed a bit. _Do something romantic. Make her know you mean it, but don't be a Darkstalker about it._

He swallowed. He took one more look around the classroom and then looked down at his paper. He had to do something. Something soon. Something-

- **Snap!**

He inhaled sharply and looked over. Clutched in his talon was half a piece of charcoal. The other half was on the floor, rolling in Summer's direction.

A few of the kids in class laughed. Webs sighed, not even looking up from the papers in front of him.

And then he was trembling. He wasn't sure with what. It felt kinda like anger at first. And then maybe depression. He knew there was some hopelessness mixed in there, and some confusion, too. There was a feeling of being lost and of not knowing what to do. Of wanting to escape and of wanting to understand something that seemed to forever evade him.

For a moment, he saw Narwhal's face appear in his mind.

_When did I turn into this?_ He thought, watching the broken charcoal roll away. _When did Prince Winter turn into the awkward, laughing-stock exile? Was it the moment I tried to do what was right? Or was it because I... lived? Should I have died fighting my brother?_

He sighed and exhaled that thought away.

_No, you've been over this a million times now.... It isn't about that. It isn't about one event that may or may not have set it all off. Sometimes, things just have to be done._

He looked up.

_It isn't about deserving or fairness, either. It's about obligation. About knowing that if you don't do the 'wrong' thing, or the thing that might seem wrong at the time, or might hurt like it's wrong: that far worse things might happen. That things that need to get done might not get done. You should know this by now. You DO know this. But here you are, doing nothing. Here you are, the day after accusing a beautiful young dragon who really liked you and really cared about you of being a spy. Of being a spy when there isn't a war, and she isn't even in a tribe...._

He glanced at Summer. Turned away. And then took a deep breath.

T _ake responsibility, Winter.... You're already an idiot—you know that. You're already a dumb, lonely, depressed fool, and you fell from a place that was.... Well, I guess it wasn't all that great now that I think back._

He could see images of Narwhal hitting him, and worse images of Narwhal _not_ hitting him, of Narwhal not caring, of Narwhal sighing and waving him away, with that same expression, that look of 'exactly what I expected from you.' And that was if he was lucky enough to get a look at all.

Sometimes his mother had done the same. She'd been disappointed in him a lot, and she'd even hit him sometimes too, when his failures had been particularly egregious, but at least she had still loved him.... Even if he was ultimately a disappointment. Even if he hadn't been worth the loss of the other brother.

He clenched his talons.

_I'm not a total failure._ He thought. _Even if I... even if I am a disappointment. I'm still_ something. _Something better than THAT._

He cleared this throat, just loud enough to make a few heads rise from their desks.

_I have to do something.... Something romantic, something regal, something..._ noble.

His father's words played through his mind: _'You either live nobly, or you die nobly.'_

_It doesn't matter if I'm born noble or if I have to act noble or if I can ever lose that nobility._

And then Summer's words played through his mind: _'You're a noble, but not by blood. It's the dragon you are inside.'_

_All I know is that this apology will be the noblest thing I have ever done or ever will do. Maybe the noblest thing ever done before!_

Winter stood from his seat and cleared his throat one more time. All the eyes in the classroom turned toward him.

“Attention everybody, I have something I would like to say.”

Summer looked up, fascination and curiosity and something else in her in her expression, something mysterious, something difficult to make out.

It was just the look Winter wanted to see.

He took a deep breath, paused, and then, standing with his snout angled up and his back as straight as he could get it, his eyes half-closed, giving him the commanding aloofness of a king, he spoke:

“I am a huge idiot. That is all.”

And he sat back down, immediately putting his eyes to the paper, beginning to write with his half piece of charcoal.

There was an eruptive, throaty noise from the back; the sound of somebody bursting into laughter, and then the rest of the class followed.

He couldn't see much in his peripheries, but he could tell Summer stared at him, with wide eyes and an expression as strange and indiscernible as he'd seen from her yet.

“Thank you for that, Winter; that was very informative. Now can we all please return to the assignment?” Webs sighed and returned to studying the sheet in front of him.

Winter swallowed. He could feel himself blushing furiously, he could feel most of the eyes in the room—including Summer's—watching him, probing him, hoping to understand a bit of what had just happened. And he could hear whispers; he couldn't make them out, and he tried his hardest not to, but he knew people were talking, talking about _him._

He had to stifle his smile. As embarrassing and as difficult as it had been, and despite all the mockery he would catch for it, he'd done it. He'd done what he'd set out to do. He'd proved that somewhere deep down in his icy scales, in his thick, lumbering Blizzard-claws, which were just as cold and aggressive as his personality, there was _nobility._ That lingering trace of his old life and his old self. Except maybe this new self was better. Maybe it was improved....

_But that doesn't matter._

When Summer looked away, he turned an imperceptible amount in her direction, to regard her with just a fraction more detail.

_What really matters is...._ He clenched his talons. _Was it enough?_

 


	7. Be My Slave For a Week

**Chapter 7: Be My Slave For a Week**

 

 

When class ended, Winter got up and walked straight for the door, making sure to be the first one out as to avoid any potential conversations with his clawmates—or possibly _in front_ of his clawmates. He moved toward the prey center, doing his best to keep his gait as casual as possible.

He looked over his shoulder and found a dragon following him.

_Just the dragon I wanted to see._ He thought.

When he arrived in the prey center, he headed straight for a deserted area by the far side, near a ledge just exposed enough to make it a poor hiding spot for prey, and thus empty of other dragons, but just secluded enough to not be overheard.

He perched himself there, his chin held high and his eyes closed regally. A presence moved and then perched before him.

One eye opened to regard the figure.

“Winter.” The voice said, slightly exasperated.

“Hello, Summer.” He let both eyes open, but kept his chin raised. The regal stances had gotten embarrassing as of late, but they helped him feel confident and strong when he was under stress—plus, he had a feeling that Summer liked seeing him that way, and that was motivation enough.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He watched her deep gold eyes slide open, for the first time realizing just how beautiful they were. Realizing how their somber, penetrating hue possibly made them even more beautiful than Moon's eyes.

Her snout contorted in an odd way, and strange noise came from her throat.

“Pffffft! Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Winter regarded her with open-snouted shock. He then snapped his jaw shut and turned away, blushing furiously.

“Ha ha ha ha...! I can't believe-! I can't-! ...HA HA HA HA!”

He frowned and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to keep them open.

She did her best to catch her breath, new waves of humor overtaking her as she struggled for control. “'I'm-I'm... I'm an id-... I'm an _idiot._ THAT IS ALL.' HA HA HA HA HA!”

“...It wasn't _that_ funny.”

“I beg-... I beg to differ, Prince Winter. I think that... may have been... the _funniest_ thing I have _ever_ seen.”

Winter sighed, a grimace plastered across his face.

“I don't think I've ever seen you so red in my life! You look like something off the lost continent!”

After a few more moments of intense humor, her laughter finally started to subside. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. He was looking away in shame, but when he detected her gaze on him and he turned toward her. He nearly sighed with relief.

She was smiling. She was actually _smiling._

_It's that same smile...._ He thought. _The same one that I...._

But her smile subsided slowly. She regarded him thoughtfully, and Winter looked back expectantly. “Look, don't think this means I've forgiven you.... I'm assuming that's what that was, right? An... apology of sorts?” She snorted.

“Yes. It was an apology.... Of sorts.”

“Good. That's a good _start.”_ Her tone grew a bit more serious. “To be honest, I didn't think I'd ever forgive you. Because, you know, you _called me a spy and threatened to detain me.”_

“In my defense, it was not a threat, it was really more of-”

“-Winter.”

He went silent.

“What this is, Prince Winter, is a start. It's an opportunity for you to make it up to me. Like I said before, I didn't think I'd ever forgive you for that—and I still might not! But because your apology was... a special kind of ridiculous.” She smiled. “I am willing to give you another chance? That's what you want... isn't it?”

“Yes!” He leaned in a bit as he said it, but immediately caught himself and pulled back, turning his snout sideways and up, in supreme regal aloofity. He cleared this throat. “I mean... yes. I want another chance.”

“Okay... good. Then I guess you're happy to hear I am willing to give you another chance. But it won't be easy! After that....” She looked down at her talons, her expression suddenly sad and uncertain. “I don't know if I can trust you again.”

“Look, I'm-”

“-Winter.” She cut him off. “After that, I know you have... some baggage--for the lack of a better word. It's not like I want to just drop you because of that—I... I really like you a lot.” Her cheeks began to darken. “I think it would be kinda selfish for me to just give up over some 'baggage,' but... my _claws,_ Winter, _you called me a spy!_ ”

“Sorry....”

“And then you threatened to detain me....”

“That's debatable.”

Summer frowned.

“Sorry.” Winter turned his head away again, his blush returning.

She sighed. “I know you're sorry. But there's something more important than that. Something I need to know _for sure_. Now, I'm pretty sure I... already know the answer, but... Winter,” she looked up at him with an expression he'd never seen before. A slightly squinty-eyed look, with a slightly cocked head, and with an almost illusory quiver of the snout. “Do you think I'm a spy?”

“No! Summer, I _never_ thought you were a spy.”

She cocked a brow.

“I-I mean, I... I never believed it. I guess I thought it. It was something I worried about, because it was so sudden, and you seemed so smooth and smart and pretty and funny and you just kinda came out... of nowhere.” He swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to avoid the sight of her face. “My point is I never really believed it. I don't know why I said it! I just.... started talking. It just _came out_. It was stupid. Too stupid to ever forgive....”

Winter went silent, and she took a deep, slow breath.

“...That's not true,” she said after awhile. “I think I will be able to forgive. I think in a way I already have. I think it's... like how you thought I was a spy. Deep down, you didn't believe it. And deep down, I've forgiven you. But we both saw what happened when the 'deep down' wasn't matching with the 'surface,' right? I need to forgive you on the surface. Or.... maybe it's the reverse of that, I don't know. But... I don't think it matters much, because either way--YOU OWE ME.”

Winter nodded rapidly. “I know. I know. I _very much do._ Is there... anything you want from me? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Hmm,” she put a thoughtful talon on her snout. She smiled, almost a little too quickly and smoothly for this offer to have been unexpected. “A rare opportunity! To have royalty at my talon-tips....”

Winter grimaced. _Did she plan this...?_

“I could go with a classic. 'Be my slave for a week!' That would be pretty cool, _but_... maybe that's too underwhelming.”

_Underwhelming!?_ Winter thought with alarm. _HOW IS BEING YOUR_ SLAVE _UNDERWHELMING?!_

_“Oh!”_ She put a talon in the air. “There is _one_ thing I have in mind.... But I'll need a little time to see if it's possible....”

“...To see if it's possible?”

“Yes. I need... _supplies_. But trust me, it is _much_ better than being my slave. Heheh.” She smiled mischievously.

Winter shifted uncomfortably.

_This doesn't sound good.... It sure is nice to see her smiling, though._

_“_ Don't look so worried,” she laughed. _“It's a good thing._ Maybe not as good as being my slave for a week—because trust me, if you were my slave, we'd both have a _very_ good time.”

_What exactly does that mean...?_

“But you'll enjoy this too.”

“When will you know? A couple days from now? ...Years?” _Also, what did you mean by the slave comment?_

“Years,” she repeated, with a hint of humor in her tone. “Neither of us could be so lucky. But no, it should be a few hours. At worst, a couple of days. Just have to talk to some potential friends.”

“Um, what exactly does thatmean? What are 'potential friends?'”

“Don't you worry your glimmery little scales, Prince Winter. That is for me to know, and for you to find out.”

“Hmf.” He crossed his arms. “Not even a hint...?”

“Not even a hint.”

Winter sat there with one eye closed, the other peering at her warily.

“Also,” he went on, suddenly. “Did you just refer to my scales as 'little' and 'glimmery?'”

“I did.”

“You realize that if you were anybody else other than maybe Kinkajou, you'd already be dead for that, right?”

“Yes, yes,” she went on mundanely. “I imagine you would have accused them of spying on your insecurities and promptly detained them.”

Winter jolted a bit and grimaced.

Summer laughed. “You are such a baby.... Also,” she straightened her eyes. “Do you know Kinkajou? She is a Rainwing, isn't she?”

“Yes, she was the Rainwing in my winglet during my first semester.”

“Yes, that's what I figured, since I remember hearing that name.... Are you guys still close?”

“Somewhat...?” Winter squinted. “Why do you ask?”

“What a coincidence! She just happens to be one of the potential friends!”

“But, how is that...?”

Summer grinned. “Mind introducing us?”

 


	8. Enter Stage Left: Kinkajou

Chapter 8 : Enter Stage Left, Kinkajou

  
  


“I just don't see what Kinkajou could possibly do for you.”

“Wow,” Summer said with appall. “Maybe I should be careful around you after all. You clearly don't value your friends.”

“It isn't that! What I _meant_ was that you don't even _know her.”_

“Whoa, whoa,” Summer extended a diffusive talon. “Am I detecting a bit of defensiveness?” She gasped. “Winter! Do you... have a crush???”

He clenched his talons. “No. I do not have crush on Kinkajou.”

“Oh no.... It's... it's my worst nightmare! You're madly in love with her!”

Winter growled, and she just laughed in returned.

“Chill out,” she said, pulling up to his side and locking her talon with his. “Before your glimmery little scales melt off.”

He tightened, and his eyes widened. He could feel her looking up at his face, _smiling,_ smiling like she always smiled.

_Look back at her. Look back at her. Stop looking like an idiot and just look back at her._

But he didn't look back at her. He continued to look like an idiot and walked for some time in silence, wrestling with himself over how he had to say something to break the silence he'd created, and about how everything he wanted to say couldn't be said now because the silence had gone on too long so he needed to say something different from that so it didn't seem too awkward.

“You big loser.” She pressed her body against his arm and rested a head on his shoulder.

His body reached a level of tightness that Winter scarcely knew was attainable, but a moment later, it relaxed. The feeling of Summer's warmth on his scales felt oddly... soothing. At least, as soothing as warmth could feel.

_I wonder what it would feel like if she were an Icewing? Or even_ part _Icewing...._

He tried to shoo the thought away, because something about it felt dedragonizing to think about, but it immediately chained into another thought.

_Part Icewing.... If Summer and I were to-_

His body tightened again.

_“_ You alright?” She asked, feeling the flexation in his wing.

“Fine, fine,” Winter mumbled, still unable to look in her eyes.

He saw her smile again, though, and when she turned to look forward, he tilted his head a bit, to get a better view of her snout in his peripheries.

It took awhile, but they eventually found Kinkajou in the arts and crafts classroom. There were a few students seated at desks—a Nightwing, a Seawing, and a Skywing—and then there was Kinkajou standing up front, a complex amalgamation of colors on her scales.

When they entered the class, her eyes lit up and her scale-pattern become interspersed with spots of growing pink.

“Winter!” She cried, bounding over to him. “What brings you to the art room? Do you want to draw me too? Oh, and you brought a friend!”

He looked warily at all the dragons perched at their desks, and they looked back at him, one curious, one annoyed, and the other, one of the Seawings, with glimmering, wondered eyes.

Kinkajou gasped. “Winter, is this your girlfriend?”

He winced. It was the last question in the world he wanted to be asked. He knew that he could say no, and as long as he did it smoothly, it wouldn't meet any backlash. But for some reason he found himself not wanting to say it. Not out of fear of offending her, but for personal reasons.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Summer said with a smile.

Winter sank back a bit, trying to hide his disappointment.

“I'm his fiancee.”

He choked. He wasn't sure on what, but he chocked. Kinkajou's eyes widened and the motion of growing pink in her scales suddenly stopped. They went completely still, remaining a static shape like they had when they'd first entered. One of the students began to fervently scribble on his sheet.

“R-Really?” Kinkajou asked.

“Yep. He proposed to me earlier today.”

“Wh-What?” Winter turned to her with alarm. “What are you talking about? I never pr-pr-proposed!”

“Ha ha ha! Sorry!” Summed turned to Kinkajou. “Just a little joke! I didn't mean to drag you into it—but you have to admit, it was pretty entertaining to see Winter stutter like that.” She grabbed a hold of his arm again and pulled herself against him.

Winter frowned and blushed.

“Pfft!” Kinkajou leaned a bit and stifled her laughter. “I can tell I'm going to _like you._ But, um, just to be clear, you guys are... like... what?”

“We're...” Summer looked up at him with a probing look. “We're not sure yet. Just... friends for the time being.”

Winter watched as Kinkajou's eyes went back and forth between their linked arms and Summer, and up to him, and then back to the linked arms.

She smiled. “Ahhh.... Well, t-that's... great! I'm very happy for you!”

He noticed this happiness was not followed by any change in her scales. They remained static.

“So if you guys didn't come to draw me, then what did you come for? Not that I'm _rushing you_ or anything! I'm _super_ happy to see Winter,” she turned to face him. “ _You never come to see me._ But hey! No big deal! What's up?”

Winter swallowed. He looked over at the students sitting at their desks. Their expressions seemed more judgmental than they had a few moments ago.

“Well, I know I just met you, but...” Summer released him. “I need a favor, and I think only a Rainwing can help me.”

“Oh?” Kinkajou asked, suddenly curious. “What could you possibly need? Is it a _spying mission?_ Because I am an _excellent_ spy! One of the best in Pyrrhia.”

“No,” Summer said with a smile. “Our spying needs are currently met.” She threw a harsh glance up at Winter, who turned away again. “I was actually wondering if.... Actually, do you mind if we step over here?”

She walked over to the far edge of the room with Kinkajou.

_Did she really need to take Kinkajou way over there? Does it really matter if she keeps it a secret? I'm going to find out about it anyway...._

Winter frowned and crossed his arms.

_Why do they keep looking over here... They have to be talking about me right now-Hey! Why are they giggling?! What's so funny?!_

Winter's head turned to avoid them, but all he found were the other students. One of them seemed very annoyed, one seemed unable to take her eyes off Kinkajou, and the other seemed unable to take his eyes off Winter.

_I wish they would hurry up...._

After what seemed like forever, they both returned, smiles on their faces.

“Well...?” He asked.

“Turns out I need to ask someone else. But there is still a chance—a good one according to Kinkajou!”

“I think you guys are gonna have _great time,”_ Kinkajou gushed. “And I think it'll really do you some good, Winty.”

“Doing what?” Winter asked, hoping that maybe Kinkajou would loud-snout the secret away.

Summer and Kinkajou exchanged glances and then smiled at each other.

“Nope! Not gonna tell _youuuuuu_.” Kinkajou bounded back to the front of the classroom grinning, without even saying goodbye.

Winter watched her with a crooked frown. He turned toward Summer, who was smiling at him.

“Shall we go, Prince 'Winty?'”

He groaned.

They strolled through the hallways for a few minutes, seemingly without destination. Summer clung to his arm like before.

“So, where are we going?” Winter asked.

“Nowhere.” She answered.

“Nowhere?”

“Nope. The rest I have to handle on my own, so I was actually going to head out.”

“Oh,” he replied, sounding a bit more depressed than he'd expected.

She giggled. “Don't worry. You'll see me tomorrow.”

“I will...? Aren't we off tomorrow?”

She frowned at him. “I didn't realize you were suddenly too busy to hang out with your _fiancee.”_

Winter bristled. “I didn't mean it like that.... And you're _not_ my fiancee.”

“Yeah, you wish.” She nudged him playfully and separated from him a moment later. “Anyway, I've got business to conduct. I'll meet up with you tomorrow?”

Something about the way she spoke just then made Winter remember that she'd grown up in Possibility. She'd spoke seriously when she said 'business,' and there was a shrewd, intimidating look in her eyes.

“Sure. What time?”

“Early. Just come by my sleeping cave and I'll let you know if everything is a-go.”

“Quartz winglet, right?”

“Yes. And you're copper? Just in case I need to find you?”

“I am.”

“Perfect,” she said with that mystical smile of hers. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

Just as she'd said, Summer stayed away for the rest of the day. Later that night, however, Winter headed back to his sleeping cave, and as he approached the entrance, he intercepted Summer as she was leaving.

“Oh!” She jumped. “Hey!”

“Oh, um, hello....” He looked over her shoulder, not seeing anybody inside. “What's up? Were you looking for me?”

“Y—es. Yes I was. You are just the dragon I was looking for.”

“Um, okay.” Winter cocked a brow. “What, uh, what can I do for you?”

“Just wanted to say... good night! That's all!”

“Oh, um, good night.”

“Night!” She repeated, bounding off suspiciously.

Winter watched her as she left, and then entered his cave thoroughly confused.

_What was that about? Did she really just want to say good night to me? If she did, then why did she sound so... weird?_

Suddenly he thought of her life in Possibility again. He thought of her persuasive and agreeable nature. He thought about how she'd been charming since day one.

When he entered the two bed nook that had been appended on to the sleeping cave, he found his clawmate, Trout, lying in his pool as usual.

“Hello, Winter,” he said, in his usual dry tone, though now he was smiling. “I was just talking about you.”

Winter looked over at him. “With Summer I presume? Was she looking for me?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, sure.”

Winter sighed and turned away.

_Claws he is weird. How did I end up sharing a hole with_ him.

He lied down on the block of ice he had for a bed—kept magically frozen by animus magic, similar to how Trout's water was kept clean. He tried his best to drift off to sleep, but his mind raced, and every few moments he grew uncomfortable and had to shift positions.

_What's her deal?_ He wondered. _Something just doesn't feel... right about all this. Is it because she was raised in Possibility? Is this just how people in Possibility act? It couldn't be; I've been to Possibility and they all seemed.... Well,_ not _charming and immediately likable and smart and beautiful and... so on._

_She's so much different from the people I met there. TOO much different. TOO fantastic to like someone like me so quickly.... It feels wrong to think, but... is there a catch? Is there something I don't know about?_

_Is she a spy, Winter?_

_No!_ He thought, clenching his talons. _She_ isn't a spy. _I saw the way she looked when I accused her of it. I saw the_ face _she made. She couldn't have faked that; nobody could have faked that. She was legitimately hurt...._

_Then what is it?_

_Am I just that lucky?_

_Is she attracted by my ex-royal status? She sure does talk about it a lot... but she also seems to downplay it a lot, too. And treats it more like a joke than anything else...._

_Then what is it?_

_She's a spy._

_No, no, no, no, she is NOT a spy._

_Why am I so hung up on this? Why do I keep thinking it when I know it makes no sense? When I know there is no reason to believe it? Do I_ want _it to be true? Now I know that's not true; that would be... awful._

_Or is just because I don't know? A spy certainly explains it, true or not. It would explain why she's so charming and pretty and sweet...._

_Ugh! What am I doing? I didn't even think this way about Moon for claw's sake!_

_...If she really is a spy she sure has me wrapped around her talon._

_But she isn't a spy. I know she isn't. But... there has to be a catch somewhere, right?_

_Maybe it is something I don't see? Maybe she isn't as great as I think she is, and it's just me who is fixated on her? Or maybe I'm... not as terrible as I've been telling myself._

_Ha! Good joke._

_In any case, if she is a spy, she's a... weird one. What kind of spy probes for information so bluntly? What could a spy even really want from me? After the Darkstalker fiasco, I'm afraid I don't have much useful information, unless this master spy somehow convinced me to draft up a schematic of the Palace—which of course would be useless and impossible for a number of reasons._

_And on top of that, what kind of spy is this.... bitchy?_

He smiled to himself.

_Not that it isn't effective.... I kind of like her bitchiness. She really isn't afraid to say what's on her mind. She's so honest that I... I actually trust her and don't feel like I have to second guess everything. I didn't even realize I was doing it until I met her...._

_And I_ do _trust her. Because if I didn't trust her, then I wouldn't... let her cozy up next to me and talk like she does to me. I wouldn't let her make fun of me so much, and I wouldn't feel so good after she did it...._

_Summer...._

Winter thought for a bit longer. He saw her in his mind. That paradoxical smile. Her tall, narrow frame, and her great, big, sandy eyes. He even saw that stub of a tail, one of the only things he'd ever allowed his mind to call 'cute.'

He drifted off to sleep.

 


	9. Enter Stage Left: Permafrost

**Chapter 9: Enter Stage Left, Permafrost**

 

 

He woke up the next morning with a yawn. No headache, no groaning, and no horrific images of Narwhal lying dead in a pool of blood. Just a yawn, and a bit of regret.

He thought back to the night before, to his tossing and turning and his mental argument about what exactly Summer's deal was, about what her 'catch' was.

_Why am I so paranoid...?_ He thought, forcing himself to his feet with another yawn. _Ugh, whatever. I'm not gonna worry about it anymore. If there is a_ catch, _I'm sure I'll find out about it eventually, but for now...._

He left his sleeping cave, tip-clawing out to avoid waking up any of his winglet mates. It was still early, but he had a feeling he'd find Summer awake.

_I'm guessing she's pretty excited for whatever she's got planned, assuming her plans didn't fall through.... I hope they didn't, though. She seemed like she really wanted to do whatever it was, and I'd hate to see her let down like that._

_Not to mention,_ he added. _I don't think anything could be worse than being her slave for a week...._ He grimaced for a moment, but cleared his expression when he arrived outside her cave. He peered inside.

She beamed and ran over. With a hushed voice she led him into the extra nook appended to the sleeping cave, similar to the one he slept in, but this one had no Trout sleeping loudly or blowing water all over himself. Also, both beds looked designed for Sandwings, but one of them didn't have the magically heated sand.

“Where are your clawmates?” Winter asked, as Summer sat him down in the middle of nook, on the floor.

She took a seat across from him. “Thankfully, they're all earlier risers. All except for Permafrost....” She snorted. “She could sleep through an earthquake.”

Winter leaned over and stuck his snout out of the nook. He looked disdainfully at the other Icewing.

“What kind of Icewing oversleeps...?” He muttered.

“We can't all be royalty, Prince Winter. Give her a break. In a few years, there should be a lot more Icewings out there acting like _normal_ dragons, so you may as well get used to the sight now.”

He frowned. “ _Normal_ dragons? Do you mean barbarians?”

She snorted and that carried over into a brief fit of laughing. “Yes, Winter. The sheer barbarous _madness_ of oversleeping.... 'Twill be the death of us all. And for your information,” she went on. “She is not _oversleeping._ We're up early.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say. Anyway, what is this grand 'plan' you have? If it's more illustrious than _being your slave_ I'd be crazy not to be at least a bit... curious.” Winter lifted a pearl off the floor and flicked onto the Sandwing's bed.

“ _Excuse_ me.” Summer said standing up and retrieving the pearl. “That is _mine.”_

Winter looked at her curiously. “I wasn't aware you had treasure.”

“I have a bit, yes.” She said protectively, tossing the pearl back on her bed.

“You might want to consider putting it somewhere a bit safer than the floor.” He said sardonically. “It might get misplaced that way.”

“I will handle _my_ treasure how _I_ want.”

“Hmf.” Winter snorted. “Touchy.”

“Yes, well, I've had no problems until a particularly _snouty_ Icewing felt the need to start touching everything in grabbing distance.”

“That's hardly fair,” Winter said with royal indignation. “Permafrost isn't even awake. How could she be grabbing your things?”

“There is only one Icewing grabbing my things, and it isn't Permafrost—in fact, I think I will sit a few feet further back, just to make sure no more of my 'things' get grabbed.”

Winter bristled and blushed. “And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Summer smiled. “Nothing....” She reached back and pulled over a small chest. “Enough messing around. I've got the booty right here.”

“The booty...?” Winter leaned forward and lifted his snout. “What kind?”

Summed hissed. “Back up. There is other stuff in here that isn't for your eyes. But this....” She reached in with both talons and pulled out a large heap of brown and white objects, all varying in size. She tossed them on the floor between them and smiled, and then with one swift motion, she closed the box and slid it behind her. “Viola!”

Winter looked down at the small, mushy things with amazement. “Are these...?”

“Yep. Mushrooms from the rain forest.”

His face slowly morphed into one of ghastly surprise. “My claws....”

“Now let me remind you, Prince Winter! This isn't just for fun! You said you'd do this to make up for your little spy accusation.”

Winter looked up at her.

“So are you... okay with this?” She asked, suddenly timid. “I know it's kind of a big thing to drop on you, and I don't want you to think that you _have_ to do this, but it's really not a big deal! And if you're-”

Before she could finish speaking, Winter reached forward and bisected the pile of mushrooms. He pulled the half-pile close, and then lifted them up and tossed them all in his snout.

Summer watched him with amazement. “Winter, oh my _claws!”_

Winter chewed the heap of mushrooms, looking back at her with what he felt was his most stoic and manly and regal expression.

She continued to watch him, her face a mix of awe and horror.

“...What ish it?” He asked tentatively, his royal mask beginning to crumble. “Ish shumting wrong?”

“Winter,” she said breathlessly. “That was.... You just-”

“-Hey, Summer, I was wondering if you had-”

Both of their heads whipped toward the entrance to the nook and looked at the source of the voice. There was a white and blue head poking into the nook, shock evident in it's wide eyes.

“Good morning... Permafrost.” Summer said uncertainly.

Permafrost looked back at her, and then over at Winter. She looked down at the half pile of mushrooms and then at Winter's snout—which had slowly resumed chewing.

“U-Uh... oh. Um, morning... Summer. P-Prince Winter....” She forced a smile, and then, with eyes still wide and face visibly strained, she backed out of the room without another word.

Summer and Winter faced each other.

“That wassh awkwerd,” Winter mumbled between chews. “She isshn't...” He chewed a few more times and then swallowed thickly. “She isn't going to tell anybody about this...” He swallowed again. “Is she?

“That was _incredibly_ awkward, but no, I trust her. I don't think she'll rat us out.... But uh,... um.... About the whole compulsively eating a huge amount of mushrooms thing....” Her face scrunched up a bit.

“What?” Winter frowned. “What is it? What's wrong? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no,” she put out a talon. “It's all okay. It's all _totally_ okay. That was just... a lot. Like, _a lot._ ”

“A lot? What do you mean 'a lot.'” Winter jolted. “You don't mean....” His eyes widened a bit.

“...I thought we were only gonna eat a few.” She smiled nervously.

His eyes widened further and his back straightened. “ _What?”_

“W-Well, I was gonna say something....”

“You were gonna-! You were, you were.... Why _didn't_ you?! Oh claws, oh claws!” His breathing ascended a bit closer to hyperventilation with every passing moment.

“Y-You just shoved them in your mouth, and then Permafrost came in and you kept chewing and I just didn't get a chance! And plus they were already in your mouth, it's like, are you supposed to spit them out?”

“YES. OF COURSE! --Oh claws, am I going to die? Did I eat too many? What's going to happen?” He did his best to hide his rapid breathing from Summer, but the panic came over him quickly, too quickly for him to keep it in check.

“Winter, it's okay!” She smiled at him, this time with a bit more confidence. “You're not gonna die. You're... probably gonna have an even better time than you would have before--I'm just a bit... surprised, is all.” She pulled the other half of the pile close.

“So I'm... not poisoned? Right? RIGHT? I'm okay? These just make you see colors, right? What happens when you eat a lot?”

“Um, yeah... b-basically just colors. And eating more just makes it more intense. I've never heard of anybody eating too many, either, and I'm sure dragons, _especially_ Rainwings, have put away _way_ more than you just did. Probably many, many times.”

He swallowed nervously. “Oh. Okay. I guess that... makes sense. It won't be too bad. I'll see a lot of colors then. I like colors. Shouldn't be bad at all, right? I love colors.”

“You might even see a few colors for the first time....” She smiled softly. “Heh, it looks like you've really turned up the heat. You know, despite the cold scales....” Her eyes traveled the length of his body with a rapid, yet probing attention to detail. Then her eyes shifted to the mushrooms. She lifted the other half of the heap up to her snout and dumped them in her mouth.

“You're gonna do it too...? Are you sure?”

She smiled between chews. “Poshitive.” She chewed the mass up and swallowed. “Never been more 'poshitive' of something in my life.”

Winter swallowed nervously, but found himself smiling back at her. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Many times, but never this many.” She scooted toward him a bit, keeping her eyes locked with his the entire time. “It should be... really amazing.”

Winter felt his jaw quivering for some reason. His talons too.

Summer put her own talon on his. “It's alright,” she said with a soft voice. “You don't have to be afraid. I think... I think you're really gonna like this Winter. It's more beautiful than you could ever imagine.”

“...What is?” He asked in a near whisper.

“The world. But you've never seen it like this.” She smiled widely. “You've _never_ seen it like _this!_ Come on,” she got to her feet. “Let's go outside. It'll be a real bummer if we have to hang out in here all day. Let's go fly.”

Winter got to his feet and she grabbed his talon again. She dragged him through the halls and out the entrance.

“There's a cold front coming through....” Winter said, putting his snout up to breath in the cool wind.

“A perfect day. Absolutely perfect,” she said with a jubilant smile. “It feels wonderful, doesn't it?”

“Yeah,” Winter cooed. “Really brings back memories.”

She moved toward his side and grabbed his talon with hers again.

“Wait,” he went on, looking over at her. “Aren't you part Sandwing and Nightwing? Don't you hate the cold?”

“Heh, don't be an idiot. Just because Sandwings and Nightwings don't live in the frozen plains of the north doesn't mean we don't like a nice, cool breeze. We're not _monsters._ ”

“Hmm.”

“And we're not all the same.... Some like different atmospheres. I'm sure there are even a few Icewings out there who like a little warmth now and again.”

He looked over at her, and an image of her clinging to his arm flashed in his mind. He remembered her warmth against his icy scales.

_Being against you felt wonderful,_ he thought. _If all warmth felt as good as the warmth that comes off you then...._

_“Anyway,_ enough talk. Let's _go-o.”_

Summer released his talon and flew off the ledge. Winter followed behind her.

 


	10. Enter Stage Left: John Milton

**Chapter 10: Enter Stage Left: John Milton**

  
  


  
  


They headed East first, and then South-East. They stopped a few miles away from Jade Mountain Academy, and a few more miles from the outer edges of the rain forest. Summer brought him to a small pond that was only a few wing beats off the river, which led from the Claws of the Clouds mountains to the ocean.

The pond was surround by large pine trees, and the dirt was thin and gray, like it was a few generations away from completely turning to sand. Summer touched down first and immediately headed toward a large rock not far from the pond-bank. Winter followed after her curiously and soon noticed a pile of food left next to the rock.

“Did you leave that food there?”

“Yeah! I came out here last night, after I knew I'd be getting the mushrooms. I wanted everything to be _perfect._ ”

“You flew all the way out here and back last night...? We could have brought food with us.”

“It's okay! I didn't want to have to deal with it or worry about forgetting something. I figured it'd be easier this way.”

“Hmm,” Winter leaned forward and peered at the assortment of food, nearly all of which appeared to be fruit. “You certainly have... interesting tastes.”

She laughed. “Trust me, everything else is gonna sound _gross_ on mushrooms. Hard, crunchy fruit is the _best._ ”

Winter looked back and forth between her and the food skeptically. “Why the one fish?”

“Because I had a feeling you'd want to try meat. You can see for yourself how gross it is.”

“Uh huh.” Winter said, wavering slightly. Very... very considerate. So... how many times have you done this... ex-exactly?”

She smiled. “A few.... You starting to feel it?”

“I think so.” He put a talon to his head. “It feels, weird. Kinda dizzy. Light-headed.”

“Don't worry, the beginning is always weird, but it gets better.”

“Yeah.... Are you feeling it?”

“A bit. But we still have a few minutes.”

“So you are... experienced, right?”

_“_ Winter, it's okay. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, alright? You're gonna be fine.”

He blushed. “I-I didn't mean it like that! I'm not scared, I'm just... nervous. You're sure all we're gonna see is colors?”

“Um... about that....”

“What about it?”

“I said we'd see colors. I didn't say that's all we'd see.”

“Okay....” He said with a look of repressed anxiety. “So what exactly are we gonna see? Are we... gonna hallucinate?”

“In a way, yes, but it's not as serious as it sounds. And that is exactly why you should stop _asking questions,_ and just _relax._ ”

“Relax? It is kind of hard to relax when I have no idea what is coming. Hence the reason I am asking-”

“-Winter. Winter, Winter, Winter....” She shook her head.

He frowned. “Look, I don't think it's completely unreasonable for me to be-”

She slid toward him and put a talon up to his snout. “Shhhh.” She got close to him, inches from his snout, close enough so that he could feel her breath against him, close enough so that he could feel her body against his. “Winter, you're gonna be okay.” She said with a soothing tone. “You trust me, don't you?”

The rapid way he'd gone from shocked, to embarrassed, to utterly subdued reminded him of his old scavenger, Bandit. He remembered how he'd sometimes go from terror to a limp, doll-like state when he'd been picked up.

“You trust me, _riiight?_ ” She smiled at him, still only inches from his snout.

“...I trust you.” He whispered.

_If I went just a little forward, I could...._

“Good boy.” She pulled away.

“D-Don't do that....” He turned his head, trying to look as stoic as possible, but unable to hide the embarrassment and mild outrage in his face.

“Heh. Sorry. But _somebody_ had to calm you down. You'll have a much better time if you just go with it.”

He sighed. “Fine. I will calm down and... 'go with it.'” He frowned, and then wavered on his claws again. “...But, um, hey... are you feeling it yet?”

“A little. Why?”

“I think I'm feeling it, but... I feel kinda sick.”

“How? Do you feel like you're gonna throw up?”

“Um, not exactly. N-Not yet....”

“Here,” she slid up next to him, brushing her wing against his. “Sit down.”

“Thanks,” he said, following her down to the ground. “I'm okay right now, I've just been getting progressively more... nauseous. Is this normal? Are you positive we didn't eat too much?”

“Yeah, it's normal. I'm feeling it too.”

He swallowed nervously. “Do they normally make you... um...?”

“-Throw up? No, not me. But I've heard of it happening to other dragons. But then again... I've never eaten this many before.”

Winter closed his eyes. “This is... weird.”

“It's coming on fast, isn't it?” Her voice lowered.

“Yeah....” His voice lowered to match hers.

_Everything feels... weird. Like it's moving, and it's silky, and it's empty and full at the same time. I don't even know what that means. What am I talking about? I'm not even talking... Am I?_

He felt a sudden urge to chuckle, but the nausea suddenly spiked, and he felt the contents of his stomach move upward.

“Yeah....”

“Yeah?” She repeated.

“Uh-huh... y-yeah, I'm gonna throw up.”

“Whoa-k, come on, big guy. Let's do that over here.”

“Is it... gonna be like this... the entire time.” Winter grimaced and enunciated his words heavily, trying to keep himself from slurring, and keep himself from gagging.

“No,” she said with a burp. “We'll be good. It gets better. But on these... big mushroom experiences. I think we gotta purge.”

“Purge....” He repeated.

She went forward and retched. Winter watched on with surprise, feeling his stomach almost crawl around, feeling a strange desire to do what she was doing.

_I... have to get it out._

The moment he went forward, he was seized by an overwhelming sensation to flex, to tighten his entire body, to groan and retch and choke, and to keep doing this until whatever he needed out of his body was out.

His stomach growled as the contents shifted up into his throat.

_Purge...._

The first retch resulted in nothing more than the taste of bile in his throat, but the longer he remained like that, with his throat open and his body tensed, the more it seemed as if his entire body entered into the experience.

The world around him grew dark; he saw images in the darkness that encroached on his center of vision, and the rapidly fading world contorted into a silken amalgamation of shapes: insects and snakes and faces and rivers of essence he couldn't even begin to fathom, let alone describe.

His body relaxed, and the world slowed down a bit and returned mostly to the way it had been before, but it was still silken, and he could see those shapes and forms hidden beneath the silk, waiting to breach the surface like restless sea life.

An immeasurable frame of time after his first retch, there came a second. As the pressure rose up from his chest to his throat, he could see the world around him already contorting again, as if the silken mess around him had been a still pond of geometry and coming from his gut was an earthquake that had already begun to shake it all into disarray.

_Something is coming to shake the earth...._ He thought with amusement.

Before he could laugh—because he was suddenly struck with a high humor--vomit rushed up from his stomach and out his snout, sending what appeared to be a river of snakes pouring to the ground. His body began to tremble and his eyes opened wide. He tried to gasp for air but the urge to retch was too intense.

The first wave had come out easily, but the second was met by a preliminary shudder of revulsion. He tried to put his revulsion into words in his mind, but none of his thoughts made any sense. They didn't last long enough to make sense. There was only the feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong; that he wanted away from it, but he no longer knew what 'away from it' meant.

_I'm vomiting snakes._ He thought, in a brief second of lucidity. _I'm vomiting... snakes...._

He heard a strange noise. It was a cry, something between a choke and a gasp, laced with confusion and panic. He initially worried for Summer--whom he'd forgotten about until that moment—but when a warm body brushed against his cool one, when familiar talons wrapped around his own and one landed on his back and rubbed him gently, he knew the noise hadn't come from her.

_It came... from me...._

_Summer... this is too much. I can't... do this._

_“_ Summer....” He forced out between breaths. “I....”

His voice trailed off. His throat refused to emit anything coherent, his snout refused to move, and by the time he remembered how to speak, he'd already forgotten what he'd wanted to say.

One moment the world looked normal, at least mostly normal, and the next moment it blurred, beyond recognition. He'd feel as though he were being sucked into a long tunnel and a numb anxiety would overcome him. The images around him kept reforming themselves into strange shapes: sometimes big, pulsating mushrooms, other times long, glowing, pulsating lines of light, but the most disturbing and fascinating ones were the pulsating snakes and various, hyper-detailed insect-body icons.

He saw strange idols and horrific expressions weave in and out of the dirt and trees and sky, and every time the long-tunnel sensation stopped, he'd return to the world for a few, brief, strangely lucid moments—the big, glowing, pulsating world, waiting to suck him into the folds once again. That world which had never seemed as temporal as it did then.

_What am I?_ He thought. _What is this?_ Why _is this? ...Why? ...Why? ...Why? ...How...?_

“It's okay, Winter.” She whispered, inches from his ear, her voice a beacon of softness and fearlessness. “You're completely alright. You're right here with me.”

_Why is she saying that? Is she responding to me? Or does she just know? Have I spoken? Have I said anything at all? Or have I only thought...?_

Then he remembered that she was there, next to him, holding him against her warm scales. He'd forgotten, he'd been too numb to feel them, too entranced to separate that vague, distant sensation of body heat from the chaos around him. When he felt it, when he honed in on it for the first time since he'd lost her, since he'd lost himself, since he'd lost his _mind,_ and since he'd lost the entire continent of Pyrrhia, the warmth grew and spread all around him, and he dived in, like some river of sanity in an infinite void of emptiness.

The instant he became fully aware of her body against his, he lost her again, but he managed to hold on to the warmth.

_You're still there, aren't you? What was your name...? What's my name...? This warmth is somebody else's, isn't it? It isn't all me, is it? If I remember one thing let it be that. Whatever it was I was trying to remember, let me remember that. What was it? It was... something...._

He felt a humor beginning to build in his chest.

_What am I talking about? I'm not even talking. What am I thinking about? Am I even thinking? It doesn't feel like it. If I was thinking, wouldn't I control the thoughts...? Is something else thinking for me? Do I just think that I'm thinking?_

_Wait, what...?_

His weight shifted toward her and they stumbled a bit, but at least _this_ motion made sense. Their slipping to the ground was the one connection to reality among all the shifting and shuffling and swapping motions of the 'reality' around him—and it felt _good_. He clung to her as tightly as he could, and she clung back.

“Shhh,” she whispered in his ear. “It's okay....”

_Am I crying?_ He thought. He tried to think further about this, because he believed there was some importance in this question, but it slipped away from him. He nestled himself closer to Summer.

_What was I thinking about...? I was worried about...._ He realized there was moisture below his eyes.

_Am I crying? I only cry when I think about-_

Winter gasped. The motion of the world around him slowed, but off in the horizon, far beyond the limits of his vision, there was a great motion, like some massive wave of energy moving independent of him, sweeping across the entire planet. He could feel its presence. He knew it could feel _him_....

...And it was coming.

He took a deep, pained breath. And then another. And then another. His face scrunched up in a pain he'd never felt before.

_Is there something in my chest? Is there something wrong with me? What's happening? Where am I? What is this? Is something coming? Something's coming. I feel something coming! Somebody stop it!_

He clung as tightly as he could to Summer. The urge to vomit flitted around his throat, but he knew that time had passed. No amount of vomiting could make this wretched sensation any easier to endure.

“Shhhh....” Summer breathed into his ear. “It's gonna get better. You just gotta let go.”

_Let go? How do I let go? What does that mean? What am I holding on to? What is there to hold on to? I have to hold on. I have to endure, a little longer, a little more. What does it mean to 'let go?' Letting go? Let go? Let go...? Let go... let go...... let go...._

_“_ Ung!” He took rapid, uneven breaths. His eyes shot open again and he looked all around. He tried to stand, but Summer held him down.

“I g-gotta-I gotta-!” He stammered, confused, delirious, the entire world spinning. “I gotta....” He froze, in a half lying, half lifted position, unable to go up or down, like a piece of stone frozen, floating in time.

_“_ D-Dad...” The word came seemingly came out of nowhere. He hadn't thought about it before saying it, and he hadn't thought that specific word in a very long time.

It had just ejaculated from his throat, like vomit, and the shock of it had left him even more frozen than he'd been a moment before. Summer hugged him tightly.

Finally, he could see again. The world still spun and morphed all around him, and his thoughts were erratic and confusing and difficult to decipher, let alone remember. But there was a sense of stability again. And over this stability there was the lingering visage of Narwhal, dead, in a pool of his own blood.

_“_ You didn't have to die....” he grumbled hoarsely, his head wavering around with delirium. “Mom loved me... sometimes....”

“You okay, hon?” Somebody's voice rang out.

“...Summer?”

“Yeah, it's me. Hey, come're, lie back down-”

“-Narwhal's dead.”

“...You mean your father?”

“Yeah. He died.”

“I know, Winter. I'm sorry. Do you miss him?”

He smiled, his eyes large, his head still wavering. “No.”

“...You don't?”

“Narwhal didn't miss me. When I was gone.”

“You didn't die, Winter. And you don't know that.”

“I _know_ that. I know he didn't. And even if I had died he'd have just been happy, cause that's who Narwhal was.”

“Why do you care so much about what Narwhal thinks? Shouldn't you just... let him go?”

“It's not about Narwhal....” Winter whispered back.

She reached up and brushed a tear away from his eye. “It's not about Narwhal, is it?”

“I wanna go home....” He said meekly, looking down toward the crawling dirt.

“...Can't you visit home?”

“That's not home. Home is gone. It's dead. Like Narwhal. I think it died with Narwhal.” He smiled again, and then chuckled a moment later. “Why is everything so.. he-----h.....” His voice trailed off and his head lobbed forward.

Summer smiled. “Why is everything so what?”

“So hea...-vy.”

“Shhh, lie down. It'll get better, okay? I think you just ate a little more than you can handle.”

He chuckled, and then began to laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so too.”

“How about we just lay here, okay?”

“Wait,” he said, remaining in his same position, unflinching. “Not yet. I don't want to move yet. I'm... scared.”

“Okay,” she sat up. “Then we'll sit here for a bit. But you're gonna get tired, you know that, right?”

“I'm doubtful,” he said grinning.

His grin faded into a frown. He took a deep breath.

“Are you thinking about your dad, Winter?” She rubbed her hand against his back.

“More than that.” He answered, still staring straight forward. “I'm thinking about so many things.”

“Like what? It'll help to get it off your chest.”

“Like my home.” He whispered.

“Do you miss it?”

“More than... words can ever hope to describe.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“All of it. The snow, and the cold air, and...” He grimaced. “I don't know.”

“You don't know what?”

“I don't know!” He barked. They sat in silence for several moments, each one making Winter's frown grow heavier.

“What do you miss, Winter? You have to say it.”

“I-” He stopped speaking immediately and clenched his jaw. Tears flooded his eyes. “I don't....” He shook his head.

“You _do_ know. Just _say_ it.”

“But I.... really.... I don't!” He jumped to his feet and clutched his head. “Oh _claws!_ I gotta-I gotta move. I gotta get _out._ Oh claws... claws....” He looked around frantically, confused.

“Hey, hey, calm down, it's-”

“-I don't know!” He ran forward and tripped. “I just don't know. I don't know. I don't know.” He pawed frantically at the dirt, ripping up massive talonfuls of sand. “I want it to _end!_ ”

“It's gonna end, Winter. I promise it's gonna end you just gotta calm down.”

He buried his head in the hole, the dirt cool against his snout. He pulled his head out and looked around.

He saw Summer staring at him, the very picture of concern.

“It's not just that,” he cried, tears beginning to fall freely. “It just... won't end.” His cries turned to sobs as he collapsed completely to the ground. “No matter... what I do....” He covered his crying head with his wings. “I wanna.... go home....”

Summer scooted up next to him without a word.

“But it's gone! It's gone forever!”

She placed a hand on his back.

_It's gone. It's gone forever._ He repeated in his mind. _Forever. Forever. Forever. Forever. Forever...._

Every time the word ran through his mind, he cried a bit harder. His body tightened a bit further. And then heard a strange, yelping noise from his throat. He clutched his neck as if in shock, as if he were unsure of where to put his talons, and his tight, hoarse throat seemed to be the best place to rest them.

“It's really gone.... It's all... _gone.”_ He croaked.

“It's over, Winter. You have to let it go.”

“I really.... can't ever go back.”

He saw Narwhal, alive, walking with that same look Winter had so many times emulated, believing that look somehow embodied what Winter was _supposed_ to be. A look of cold, hard, passionless power, a look that had both compelled and repulsed him. He saw the expression Narwhal made whenever he was even a bit proud of his son—an expression that was _always_ laced with some surprise. It was a look he'd seen so few times that had each and every occurrence of it not been so meaningful, he'd have long forgotten the look entirely.

He saw his mom smiling at him. His mom frowning at him. He saw his name move up and down the wall. He saw Hailstorm smiling at him, and playing with him, and teaching him, and _humoring_ him—humoring him in the way Winter had desperately wished his parents would. Not to take him seriously, but to at least _pretend_ to. Even if they didn't believe in him: couldn't they at least care?

He saw the sweeping fields of his homeland covered with ice and hills and animals, all lined with a sense of exploration and mystery. All a chance to try and do something new, to excel and be exceptional despite the odds.

And he saw Moon. He saw her smile, and he saw that tear drop silver. He felt that strange feeling of having his mind read, and then knowing that the reader still liked him despite the nature of his thoughts and the secrets of his personality. That the reader hadn't immediately hated him for what she'd seen.

_She knows me better than anyone else...._ He thought.

He smelled her. She smelled like the Rainwings did, natural, but with a poignancy about her that oozed feminine charm. He felt her wings against his, and the warmth of her scales against his icy belly.

He saw the entirety of Pyrrhia; the idea of Pyrrhia, the way it was back before all he saw was a wretched, doom-ridden place.

“Oh, claws, I don't want to! I don't want to!” He dug his claws into the dirt, tears flowing rapturously from his eyes. “This can't be real! This... this can't be real...” He broke back into sobbing. “I... can't....”

“You have to.” She whispered.

“I can't! I just... can't! It isn't worth it! Nothing is worth it! What's the _point?!”_ He smacked the ground as hard as could, enough to make his talon hurt, enough to send dirt flying. “It's just not worth it! Nothing is worth it! Is there... is there something _wrong with me?_ Is it me?” He began to sob again.

“You gotta let go, Winter.”

“Let go of what?! _How_ do I let go? I don't-I don't want to _let go_. I don't _want to!”_ His voice came out shrill, childish. So childish he shocked himself into an abrupt stop. His crying, his yelling, his everything. The feeling faded first. The urge to cry drained out of him like somebody had unplugged his pool of tears and it had all washed away into that merciless, shifting abyss, lost deep in the folds that had sucked him in and spun him until nothing stood still and nothing could be recognized. The sensation of his scrunched up, sobbing face felt wrong to him now. It eased into relaxation, and he stared straight ahead for a few moments, his snout no longer contorted into any kind of frown or smile. Just a look of mild surprise.

_“_ Do you feel better now?” Summer asked with a tone similar to how Winter imagined a normal mother's.

He turned toward her. “Yes. I'm... I'm sorry for that.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry for letting you eat all those mushrooms.” She smiled, but her smile faded a moment later. “You know now, right? That you can't ever go back...?”

“Y-Yes...” He held up his talons and looked at them. “I can't ever go back to the way things were.”

“You don't have to go back, Winter. You were so distracted with looking at how things were—which, by the way, didn't really sound all that great--that you didn't even see the beautiful and immense future in front of you. You didn't see all the things you could do.... Winter,” she grabbed his side-turned head and turned it toward her.

She kept his snout between her talons as she spoke. “You were in love with a Nightwing, weren't you? You still are?”

He jolted a bit. “How did you...?”

“They told me at school. They said something about me being part Nightwing....”

Winter sighed and grimaced.

“But you couldn't have her, could you?”

“And _who_ told you _that?”_

_“_ Nobody. Isn't it kind of obvious?”

His eyes widened a bit. He stared blankly at her contorting face.

“Is it hitting you right now?”

“Y-Yeah,” he said, knowing intuitively what she meant. He watched the shape of her head waver, the crevices of her scales overflow into other worlds of shapes and essence—these worlds, unlike the ones before, were golden and shining and filled with dancing lights and awe-inspiring pieces of geometry and mind-boggling patterns that seemed to repeat ad infinitum.

“Good. Now stay with me just a few minutes longer and then I promise we can go back. And it'll be better this time.”

He swallowed and did his best to focus his vision on the shape beyond the shimmering expanse. “Okay.”

She looked deep into his eyes and clutched his snout tightly between her talons as she spoke. “You were so distracted by this other dragon, you couldn't even see the spy who had snuck in and stole your heart.”

 


	11. Winter Dies

# Chapter 11: Winter Dies

  
  


  
  


Winter stared back at her, his eyes and his jaw widening.

His chest tightened in a strange way, like he were holding back the urge to vomit. He nearly pulled himself from her grasp, but there was no nausea; the feeling moved upward, forward, it made him feel good, in a strange, slightly unnerving way.

He chuckled.

And then he laughed.

He collapsed to the ground in uproarious laughter, desperately grasping for air, tears flowing from his eyes. He slammed his eyes shut, hoping he wouldn't have to see the way she'd look at him. The offense she would surely feel for being laughed at, for having her _romance_ laughed at. He tried to suppress the laughter, but wave of wave of humor washed over him.

Then he heard the sound of her laughter, and when he opened his eyes, he saw her falling down onto the ground like him. She rolled on to her stomach and hit the dirt, consumed by the humor, as if it were a virus that had spread from him to her.

He couldn't say how long they laughed for. All he knew was that when he slowed down enough to speak, he knew for the first time the meaning of the saying 'laughing so long your wings hurt.'

“S-Summer...Oh, claws, I'm sorry.” He coughed. “I didn't mean to laugh.”

“No, no....” She said, rolling over and looking at him with a dumb smile.

_She's still on the mushrooms, isn't she...? I almost forgot, considering how well she handled... me...._

“It was a ridiculous thing to say,” she went on. “But romantic, right? _Totally_ romantic?”

He chuckled again and grabbed his stomach. “Incredibly romantic. The most romantic thing I've ever heard. It turns out I was wrong, though.”

“Heheh... about what?”

“You're not a spy.” He rolled back and looked up at the sky, his voice lowering as the psychedelia of the mushrooms began to intensify again. “You're a thief.”

Wordlessly, she scooted up next to him and extended her talons over his chest and pressed her body against his.

“But....” he went on. “Maybe that doesn't it do it justice.”

“Do what justice?”

“You.” He whispered.

He focused in on the feeling of her talon running down his chest as his mind slipped away. A world of black encroached. All the crevices of the world that had been before him a moment ago expanded, and waves came out. Some indescribable, others like the water, and some like the light. They flickered and flashed and swam around him, overwhelmed him with ecstasy, washed him as if they were washing off the grime from a life time of sorrow.

The myriad of lights and motions consumed all that he saw. Different shapes came as quickly as they left, and they always evaded the center of his eye. When his eye caught something directly, it took on a hyper-sharpened, hyper-detailed state, and everything around it rushed to the side, to the outer edges of his vision, and then he would be sucked into a new world, a new show of lights and pictures and waves.

Occasionally, Summer would twitch a bit, her body still against his. He imagined that he'd been doing the same thing; sometimes shifting around on the flat ground, or moving a cramping wing, other times being struck by a smack of euphoria and mysticism and magick so intense he _had_ to move.

Each time she shifted, he refocused on her warmth. He shivered as it enveloped him. Comfort came from that warmth, from her scales and from her presence at his side—in the knowing that she was there experiencing it too. In knowing that he was not alone in this place. In his treasure trove of secrets and majesty.

He had no idea how much time had passed when his eyes opened. The waves of energy and light grew less consuming with each passing minute, and he sat there for a bit, staring at the deep blue sky, letting the weaker waves come, now at a slower frequency.

_This... satisfaction._ He thought. _I've never felt anything like this. There_ is _nothing else like this. This is what I've been looking for this entire time, without even realizing I'd been looking for it._

It wasn't until he saw Summer's eyes open that he realized he'd been staring at her, admiring the soft curves of her snout and head, and getting lost in the placid gold of her scales. Her eyes seemed like deep, endless rivers next to them—the same color, but a different shade, something deeper and more infinite.

“This is.... This is so....”

“...Beautiful?” She finished. “Endlessly magnificent? Beauty beyond understanding, comprehension, or description?”

“I was going to say insane,” he answered with a dumb smile and a wavering head and sagging, tired eyes. “But yes, that too.”

She laughed and clutched her chest. “Don't make me laugh anymore. By the _claws_ don't make me laugh.”

He smiled vibrantly, contorting his snout in a way he'd never felt it move in the past. “Only if you promise the same thing.”

“Of course.” She snuggled tighter against him. So, do you feel better now, Prince Winter? Do you feel as regal and grand as you are?”

“I feel _so_ much better. I've never felt so good in my entire life!” He grinned childishly. “I've never felt anything like this. It's like the regular world, but so much more _intense._ So much more... insane. I... I get the Rainwings now. Everything is just so alive. And it's so _vibrant._ I feel like this is how the Rainwings must see the world, how they must see _everything._ Is it just a Rainwing thing, or do other tribes know about this? Why don't _all_ the tribes do this? I can only imagine Queen Glacier doing something like this, o-or my brother!” He laughed. “I bet that would be completely ridiculous I....I.... I don't... remember what was I was talking about. Huh.”

She giggled and shook her head. “You were asking if other tribes do this. And to answer your question: yes, they do. I didn't get these from Kinkajou; she referred me to a Seawing named Trout.”

“ _What?”_ Winter looked at her with confusion. “ _Trout...?_ Really? _Trout?”_

“Yes, Trout. Why are you so surprised?”

“Because I _sleep_ next to him. I see him everyday....” Winter laughed and shook his head. “He's so ridiculous....”

“You're one to talk, Mr. Babbling-Like-a-Dragonet-On-His-Hatching-Day.”

“I'll have you know, this is the babbling _nobility.”_

_“_ Noble babbling, huh?” She crooked an eyebrow. “Can't say I am familiar with that.”

“Then pay close attention and maybe you'll learn something.” He turned his head away and arched his snout up. He tried to put on a regal expression, but he ended up chuckling, and she chuckled along with him.

They laughed for a few moments, and then nestled back onto their backs. Summer pressed herself against him again. Winter could feel her breath against his chest.

“To tell you the truth,” she began. “You had me really scared.”

“Hmm?” He looked down at the back of her head.

“I... I'm glad you're okay.” She said with a heavy sigh. “I'm really glad I didn't like... mess you up.”

“Technically you don't know that yet.” He smiled wryly. “I'm still high. When I sober up I might be a totally different dragon.”

“...I hope not.” She muttered. “I like you just the way you are.”

He blushed a bit and smiled more candidly.

_I wonder what that means... to 'mess me up.' Could these_ things _mess me up?_ An image of the pile of mushrooms popped in his head. He saw himself shoveling a talonful in his mouth. _I guess it wouldn't be surprising, considering what happened earlier.... but, what are they? Just what did I see today? What kind of... insanity was it all? Was it just the mushrooms making me hallucinate? Or was it something... else?_

“Thanks.” He answered. “I... like the way you are too.”

She snuggled against him.

After a few moments of silence, she rolled over and rested her head on his belly. She looked up at him. “Hey, Winter. Do you wanna fly?”

“Fly...? Can... we do that?”

_“_ Of course we can.” She sat up. “Who's going to stop us?”

“I guess I never thought about it. Is it safe?”

“Do you care if its safe?”

He was a bit taken aback by the question, but recovered a moment later. He cocked his head and put on a curious expression. “Not really, no.”

She grinned. “Thought so.” She hopped to her claws and extended a talon. Winter grabbed hold of it.

“Where should we fly?” He asked.

“I say we just go up and let the wind decide.”

“The wind? What does the wind know?”

She snorted. “You didn't take enough mushrooms if you have to ask that.”

Winter stood there staring at the ground with a mystified and deeply confused expression as Summer walked over to the large rock from before.

“Don't pull a muscle,” she said, handing him a piece of fruit. “Eat this and we'll go.”

“But... what _does_ the wind know?”

“That's an excellent question,” she said with an exasperated smile. “Remember to ask me when you're _sober_ and we'll go over it as many times as you want. Anyway, _eat._ And then we'll go.”

“I'm not hungry.”

“You are hungry. Your stomach was growling so much I thought it was gonna eat my ear.”

Winter bristled and his cheeks turned red. “Yes, maybe because I was trying to digest the pound of mushrooms you forced down my snout.”

She laughed, almost choking on her fruit. “I _forced_ you, huh? I didn't even have time to _stop_ you. And it wasn't a pound, so stop being a drama queen.”

“That's drama _prince_ to you.”

She shook her head. “Are you ready?”

Winter consumed the fruit with one bite. “Yeah,” he said after swallowing. “Wow, that's _good.”_

“Told ya. Would have been even better if you'd _chewed it.”_

After a bit more idle bantering, they took off into the air.

Winter breathed in the cool, northern winds beginning to blow down toward Jade Forest.

_“Oh my claws!”_

“It's great, right?” She called back.

“This is amazing! Everything is so... it's so....”

“Insane?” She finished with a wry smile.

“Beautiful!” He looked back at her with tears in his eyes. “It's all so... oh claws....”

She smiled at him. “Go higher!”

He followed her up, admiring the perfect way she beat her wings and the majesty in which she laced every move she made.

_The landscape isn't the only thing here that's beautiful,_ he thought, unable to look away.

She continued up. Up, and up, and... up.

“Hey,” he called from behind. “How far are we gonna go.”

She looked back at him, and then around. “Actually, this should be enough.” She leveled out. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“For the only thing a dragon can do from his height.”

Winter squinted at her, half-confused, half-suspecting.

“We're gonna dive, Winter. Can you handle it?”

His eyes widened and his snout dropped slowly. He nodded. “Yeah.” He looked down at the ground which was now far below. “I can.” He said it too quiet to be heard, but he had a feeling Summer could tell what he was saying anyway.

_We must be as high as Jade Mountain right now. Maybe higher...._ He swallowed. _Good thing I said something._

“Alright,” she looked back and smiled. “Just follow my lead, alright? And don't be afraid to pull up if you feel like you're not gonna make it.”

_Not gonna make it...? What in the scorching does that me-_

_-_ But she was already diving. Winter hastily followed behind her. His speed picked up tremendously.

_Holy claws!_

He'd messed around with dives before. It was something you were taught to do when learning to fly—at least in the Ice Kingdom. You'd go up a bit and dive down, and then fly across the ground, and for soldiers, there was training that involved obstacle courses.

But even soldiers didn't gain speed like this. Even they didn't ascend to the height of a mountain and then fly full speed down like Summer was doing. He'd once heard a teacher offclawedly say to never do anything even remotely similar to this—and then there'd been an addendum adding that such a thing was so stupid it really didn't even need to be mentioned.

_And here I am,_ he thought. _Free-flying straight down from the height of a mountain while on mushrooms._

_WHAT AM I DOING?_

But it was too late. He'd already gained a mind-numbing amount of speed. He was amazed that he could fall so fast for so long, but he imagined the sheer rush of it, the sheer intensity of the emotion was slowing down time. He thought about pulling up—she'd even told him that he could if he felt overwhelmed....

_Well, no, she didn't. She said I could pull up if I thought I wasn't going to 'make it....'_

_But the only thing I feel right now is alive._

He kept going, faster and faster. He tried to catch up to Summer, but whenever he got closer, she picked up speed and moved further away.

_I can make it.... I can make it.... I can make it...._

The ground approached rapidly. He looked at Summer and wondered why she wasn't pulling up.

_Am I going to die?_

_Is this how I'm going to die?_

_Is Summer going to die...?_

_Is there anyway to stop her?_

_Is there anyway to prevent this from happening?_

_The ground is so close now._

_We have to pull up now._

_If don't do it RIGHT NOW WE'RE GONNA-_

And then he saw it, the slightest motion from Summer's wing. Her body started to tilt upward. He did the same along with her, and he felt his body tilt in the same direction. The entire world spun around him.

The land rushed by his underbelly as his body straightened out. The grass of the lowlands swayed from the wind their bulking bodies generated. A forest sat up ahead, and Winter was going so quickly that he worried he'd reach it and fly into a tree before he could pull up high enough.

If he somehow managed to avoid plowing directly into a trunk, he still had to worry about the the tops of the trees scratching up his belly—or worse yet, throwing him into a high speed death spiral.

_THIS IS THE STUPIDEST, MOST AMAZING THING I HAVE EVER DONE._

They whooshed past the plain and then lifted above the height of the trees with only moments to spare. Winter gasped for breath, his body still flying at an enormous speed. He watched Summer and found her wings still angled to glide, to hold onto that speed for as long as possible, so he did the same.

And then he felt it. It was like it had been following behind him the entire time. Trailing him, just like he was trailing Summer.

A massive surge of euphoria traveled up his spine, starting at the tip of his tail. He gasped again, and his head looked all around the rapidly moving landscape.

In all of his life, nothing had ever felt so good, nor had anything seemed so beautiful. Life had never seemed so worthwhile, and things had never seemed so _complete._

The better, more intense parts of his mushroom experience had rivaled this moment in all those aspects, but never all of them at the same time, never with such a _rush,_ and never with such an unending, unquestionable, godly sense of confidence and invincibility.

He exhaled, as if he were exhaling years of anger, of indignancy, that came not from other dragons or meaningless, arbitrary events, but from the world, from the _life_ that told him that he couldn't. He felt embarrassed that he hadn't, ashamed that it had taken him so long.

This feeling, this freedom, the only still image in his view, that erect visage of Summer coasting at speeds he'd never seen a dragon reach before through non-magic means. He finally knew the meaning of the word exhilaration. He felt he knew the meaning of so much more, too. He wasn't sure what, exactly, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was that now he knew. He _knew._

When they finally slowed down, Winter caught up to Summer and looked over at her.

Her eyes were closed and her face was tight with focus.

“That was amazing! That was the most amazing thing I've ever experienced!”

Her tight snout bent into a smile. She gingerly turned to look at him. “I never get tired of that one. I do it at least once every time I do mushrooms.”

Winter jolted. “ _How many times have you DONE that?_ ”

She laughed. “You don't want to know.” Her wings arched down, and they headed for the ground. She landed in the middle of an empty plain, in a patch of thick, billowing grass.

Winter landed beside her. “Aren't you worried you'll get hurt?”

She walked over to him and put a talon on each of his hips.

He looked down at her shocked, not sure how to react.

She looked up at him and smiled. “For the first time in a long time.... Yes, Winter, I am.” She hugged him.

He hugged her back. The tension left his body, and he eased into her.

She pulled away gently and looked up. “We should head back soon.”

“Yeah, you're right.... Are you still feeling it?”

“A little. But it's starting to slow down now.”

“I feel the same way. How long does this normally last? We've been high a lot longer than I was expecting....”

'I... probably should have told you how long it would last.”

Winter sighed. “Maybe I should asked before I shoved a bunch down my snout.”

She chuckled. “You mean before I forced you to eat them?”

He smiled and tightened his grip on her.

“Anyway, it should last a few more hours. It'll get lighter and lighter as time goes on.... But, I'm kinda surprised it is still this strong. I'm a little afraid to walk into Jade Mountain. We're gonna be acting weird for awhile longer.”

“I'm guessing it's because we ate so many?”

“'We,' he says. Like he isn't the one who started this.”

“You followed my lead.”

“Yeah,” she snuggled against him a bit tighter. “And I'm so glad I did....”

 


	12. Trouble in Lost Paradise

**Chapter 12: Trouble in Lost Paradise**

 

Winter shoved his talon into the river, and it emerged with a fish on the end, pierced, fishy oil and blood oozing down the shaft. He looked up, using his freetalon to block the blaring light coming from above. The icy wind helped cool his scales, which simmered against the hot, nearly scolding rays of the sun. He sat there for a few moments, adsorbing that warmth, basking in it, meditating on the curious way it intermingled with the cool breeze.

He breathed deeply, taking in that strange, empty air, and then he began to move.

He flew across the river and then across a deep, seemingly endless ocean of sand. In some indeterminable amount of time, he reached the entrance to the forest at the desert's end. Interspersed trees, all the same size and shape, comprised the forest. The floor sat bare of leaves, instead covered with a sandy, soft looking dirt.

The tops of the trees were thick and dense, the branches nearly large enough to reach from one tree to the next. A permeating light shone through, undeterred by the leaves, making the forest appear as though it were filled with a series of miniature suns, which shone so sharply and with such penetrating contrast that it stung his eyes.

Yet despite the warm, enveloping heat of the ambient light, the cool breeze persisted, it's touch interrupting the sear of the heat, feeling as if it were slipping between the warm rays of light instead of battling them, working and shifting and moving in tandem with the heat instead of killing it.

He breathed in deeply again and then turned. There was a house in the distance. A small cottage, with a brick path leading up to the front door. It had a small garden on both ends of the entrance, and a small spice garden on a sill by the only window. He approached the fairy-tale house with a sense of purpose, knowing instinctively what he would find inside.

She came out to meet him. --Had she heard his approach?-- Her eyes deep like oceans of distant sand, her frame tall and slender and oozing warmth—a familiar warmth. She smiled at him, and he felt himself smile back.

He tried to speak, but his snout would not open, and he felt strongly that she wanted to speak as well. He approached her, and when he was in front of her, peering into those endless eyes, he embraced her and brought her close to his chest, as close to his heart as he could manage, making sure he could see those sandy oceans the entire time. The fires of her scales burnt the image of their magnanimous existence into his mind, hopefully, he thought, forever.

His eyes opened.

_A dream...._ He thought, yawning. _Why do I feel so warm tho-_

“-Ahh!” His eyes shot open and he jolted back, smacking his head against the cave wall.

There was the sound of claws slipping on rock as Trout flopped around like a startled scavenger, eyeing Winter with horror and then rushing headlong toward the exit of the sleeping cave.

“...Winter?” Summer sat up and opened her eyes. “What's the matter?”

He looked down at her, his face contorted into a grimace and his talons clutching the back of his head.

_That explains why I was so warm...._

He regarded her curled up body for a second, at first with fascination, and then with aesthetic respect.

_I never knew waking up or even sleeping with another warm body could feel so... good._

He swallowed.

_And I never realized she looked so... beautiful when she woke up. I wonder how she looks when she's asleep...._

He cleared his throat and slowly removed his talons from his aching head. “Trout was staring at us.”

“Seems like he scared you pretty badly.” She yawned.

“ _Yes,”_ Winter replied harshly. “I'm not used to waking up with _creepy Seawings_ staring at me.”

“Okay, _Grumpy-claws,_ I'm not used to waking up with an angry, spiky Icewing screaming in my ear, but you don't see me overreacting about it.”

Winter frowned. “...I feel like you're drastically underreacting to this.”

“That's not the point. Trout was just curious; he's never been with another dragon. You knew that right?”

“ _What?”_ Winter pulled back a bit and looked at her as if she were insane. _“_ Why do you know this, and why are you telling it to me? Also, _why does that even matter_?”

“ _Because._ I learned a little bit about him when he gave me a _ton_ of mushrooms for free. And you should try to be a little nicer to him—he's actually very emotional. Sensitive, too--especially about his weirdness. The weirdness you so _politely_ referred to as creepiness. I hope he wasn't in earshot....”

“Trout is emotional and sensitive? Him? He doesn't seem emotional to me....”

“Yes, and he thinks you hate him.”

“He does?” Winter arched a brow. He sighed. “Tell your best friend Trout to never watch me—or _you—_ sleep again, and I'll _consider_ not calling him creepy.”

“You better not call him creepy again.” She got out of bed. “But, uh, yeah, I'll mention the sleep-watching, that's... probably not a good habit.”

Winter shook his head. “How are you not more disturbed by this?”

She snorted. “I dealt with some weird stuff being homeless in Possibility. I met a lot of people like Trout, too. Outcasts. They don't know any better.--Plus,” she added with some wryness, “I don't have to share a room with the guy.”

“Wait, you were homeless?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“I... didn't know that.”

She smiled. “There's plenty you don't know about me, Winter.” Her smiled dissolved into a frown. “That was... mean. Sorry....” She whispered and turned away.

“That was mean?” He snorted and then smiled. “I think I'll live.”

She closed her eyes and wrinkled her snout. “Let's... let's just get breakfast.”

Winter watched her get up and move toward the exit.

“You coming?” She called back.

“Y-Yeah.”

_What's got her so uptight all of the sudden? Was it something I said? Was it the Trout thing?_

They headed to the prey center and caught their breakfast. Winter contented himself with fishing as usual while Summer found herself a billy goat. She brought it back to his fishing spot and they ate together, but Winter noticed she was unusually silent.

_Why won't she look up at me...? Did I really do something to piss her off? But... I didn't do anything weird, did I?_

He swallowed a fish whole.

_Maybe it's from yesterday? She might be a bit clawed-over from the night before. It's only been a single day and we ate a lot of mushrooms...._

He bit a fish in half.

_Or maybe... I'm acting different? Maybe it was something I did during the trip?_

_Or maybe it's because I..._

He frowned and gave a forlorn look to the fish.

_I did, didn't I? I really... did that. In front of_ her _...._ He blushed.

Inadvertently, his eyes shifted up to see if she was looking at him, to see if those eyes were accusing him of something, to see if they were remembering his 'episode' out in the woods.

All he wanted to find was the same desire she always looked at him with. That mysterious smile. That look as though she were staring at some ungraspable presence--a look that said she was foolish enough to reach out anyway, to try and grab hold of it, that he was worth it.

But she looked down at the dismembered billy goat and seemed not to notice his gaze. Her eye lids hung low and her snout remained tight around the goat corpse, stained in blood. Winter turned away, as quickly as he could, as quickly as he realized this image was burning itself in his brain and he desperately did not want it there.

Suddenly, everything around him had taken on a disgusting reality. The reality that despite all the sweet words and simple gestures of the day before, Summer was not _his._ Not in any sense of the word. They were still technically not 'together'--in fact, they'd not even kissed yet.

_But... she said she loved me, didn't she?_

He grinded his teeth nervously.

_She DID say that, and I said it back..... But then why does she look so... down? Does she regret it?_

_Wait,_ he stifled a gasp through his nose. _Did she say it because she was high...? Does she not...._

He looked up at her again, terrified of the look he would find looking back.

_No, no, no, no...._

This time, she noticed and looked up.

_Summer...._

Her snout, still covered in blood, rose from the corpse, her eye lids still hung low, even lower than before. But now she smiled meekly. No other part of her face moved other than the bloodstained snout, and no part of her eyes twinkled with the ambition and intoxication he'd seen in them prior.

_There's nothing mysterious about_ this _smile.... It's straightforward, sad, and... miserable._

_Because of me...._

_Because I am an idiot._

He felt rage surge up in his stomach.

_No! It isn't because of me! She didn't have to lie—regardless of whether or not she was_ high.

_But you felt it, didn't you? You felt how... intense it all was. You know how somebody might... make a mistake...._

_...Why did I take them all? Why didn't I just... wait? Maybe things would be different if I'd only taken a few. Maybe she wouldn't have seen me... act like such a dragonet, maybe she'd still love me._

He stifled a sigh and forced a smile of his own. He then turned back toward his fish.

_Oh claws you're stupid...._

_It can't be true, though...._

_It hurts so much...._

_But you saw her face, you know it's true._

_It CAN'T BE TRUE. SHE CAN'T LIE LIKE THAT. NOBODY CAN LIE TO YOU LIKE THAT!_

_Oh claws it hurts so much...._

_You're royalty._

_Why did this have to happen? Does she hate me now?_

_You're respected and envied and majestic and powerful and a member of the greatest tribe of dragons of all time!_

_Oh CLAWS it hurts...._

_PRINCE WINTER OF THE ICEWINGS._

_Why did you have to cry in front of her? Why did you have to_ CRY _of all things, Winter? What is wrong with you?!_

_What kind of prince_ cries _in front of his almost-girlfriend?_

_...An EXILED prince._

_An idiot prince...._

_You are such an_ idiot. _Idiot, idiot idiot-!_

“-Winter?”

He jolted. “Y-Yeah? What's up?”

“Are you okay? You look kinda... off.”

“Of course I'm alright.” He said raising his snout a bit. “Completely on. On-er than ever. Never been so on in my life.” He swallowed the other half of his fish.

“Oh,” she nearly whispered, casting her head back down. “That's... good.”

Winter looked at her confused for a second. “Wh-What about you? Are... you okay?”

She kept her head down toward the Billy goat, but she didn't seem particularly interested in eating it any longer. “I'm alright,” she replied meekly. “Just... thinking.”

“...What are you thinking about?” He scooted a bit closer to her, and her head followed the motion of his body.

“...Nothing. I-” She stood. “I think I need to be alone for a bit. I just... I just need some time to think, okay? I'm sorry.” She rushed toward the exit of the prey center.

Winter watched her with his jaw agape. “W-Wait...” he mumbled, keeping his claw from extending toward her. “Please don't...” He looked down.

_It's because I... moved toward her. Because I asked, and because she doesn't want to tell me the truth._

_At least she still cares enough to not want to hurt me...._

He clenched his jaw.

_Stupid idiot!_

He jumped to his feet and marched out of the prey center, younger dragons darting out of his way.

_How dare she?!_

His jaw clenched tighter.

How DARE she?!

He walked through the hallway and out the front exit of Jade Academy. He looked out over the cliff of the mountainside and flew off.

_She thinks she can just-that she can just-that she can just come into my life and just...._

He took a deep, much-needed breath, and the thoughts slowed down.

_I'm not going to cry over her._

_I refuse to._

 


	13. THE RESURRECTION OF WINTER

_**Chapter 13: THE RESURRECTION OF WINTER** _

  
  


  
  


Winter flew around for as long as he could, savoring every moment he had out there in the sky-- in the cool, northern wind that grew colder everyday. The pain in his chest intensified with every passing moment, and with every thought, his body grew a bit more lethargic.

When he headed back, he trudged about with his eyes downcast and his snout pulled down even lower. Dragons stepped out of his path and refrained from looking in his eyes, as if avoiding the sadness that seeped from his scales would protect from contracting his depressive plague.

_A plague..._ He thought with a touch of nausea. _Narwhal...._

His chest tightened. He could see that image of his father again. That picture of Narwhal in a pool of blood.

_I guess some things never change.... They only let up for awhile. We just have to live with it, forever, until we die. And the lucky ones, the one who get to be naturally happy--they get a little bit more of a... reprieve. But they don't escape it either._

_...Or maybe I'm just broken._ He sighed.

_Prince Blizzard-claws, the betrayer of the Icewings: exiled, stupid, and broken. The honorifics grow everyday, don't they?_

He trudged toward history, committed to ignoring Summer entirely. Not just with his eyes, but with his body and his mind—with his _emotions._ As far as he was concerned, this wasn't even really about her. His sorrow and bad luck in life transcended just one dragon. She was merely an extension of the trouble, a catalyst to the inevitable.

_I shouldn't blame her...._ He thought with a grimace. _I wouldn't love me either._

He snorted.

_When did I become such a baby...?_

Winter entered history. The moment he saw Summer sitting there, the moment their eyes met, he was filled an intense surge of emotion, a drive to run up to her, to beg, to cry, to apologize, to vomit, or to run away, or to just fall asleep for a very, very long time. But instead, he moved forward toward his desk, and he did so with a deep hope that this endless act of endurance would be ultimately meaningful--that he forced his way through the mucky web of reality time and time again for a _reason._

He took his seat next to Summer, feeling suddenly guilty. Mental posturing aside, he'd never been so glad to be close to her.

_Don't be so helpless, Winter._ He thought. _You're acting like a little dragonet. You don't need her. You lived without her for your whole life. You lived without Moon and without all your friends. You've done fine this entire time...._

_'...Fine,'_ he repeated in his mind skeptically. _Maybe... 'fine' isn't the right word._

His chest tightened again.

He half-glanced over at Summer; he found her half-glancing back.

His chest tightened further, but now with a slightly different sensation. He turned away.

_Why is she...?_

His jaw tightened as a sigh escaped his nose. He tightened his grip on the half piece of charcoal clutched in his talon, but forced it to relax a moment later.

... _I bet she feels bad for me. Pities me._

_A homeless hybrid from Possibility pities me,_ he thought with amusement. _Oh, how you have fallen, Winter._

When class ended, he rushed toward the door, making sure he was the first one out. He knew his clawmates—as well as his 'favorite' teacher—had probably watched him curiously, and were now likely discussing the speedy exit in the most offensive and judgmental way possible, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be free of that claustrophobic little hole and away from the pressure that seemed be to falling down on him from every angle, the pressure that seemed to be coming at him specifically from the next seat over.

There was also the added benefit of showing Summer how much pain he was in. He could use her pity for him to hurt her, to garnish some much deserved revenge.

_How dare she...._ He thought listlessly. _What gives her the right...._

When night fell, Winter went outside. He perched on the cliff side like he had done a few nights back, back when he'd had his delightful 'you're a spy!' conversation with Summer.

He chuckled. _At least I can relive all the GREAT memories we had time to make...._

An instant after thinking this, he immediately saw images of Summer and the many good memories they actually had made in the short time they'd known each other. The first day in class, when she'd picked up his charcoal, and the time she'd stood up for him in the prey center—despite how vehemently she claimed she was only defending herself—the time they'd met on the top of Jade mountain, and the time she'd forgiven him almost immediately for the spy incident. And above all, he saw images of their mushroom experience, images of the trees around them and the elaborate dancing shapes, The feeling of her scales against his, the smell of her breath and the deep, expanded look of her eyes.

He sighed and stared out over the forest. He admired the way the light fell over the trees, the way the shadows layered themselves upon other shadows like a series of blankets growing deeper and deeper ad infinitum.

Everyday that passed he felt as if he understood that darkness a bit better. As if it contained some enticing element; an element of silence and sleep and rest and fading out of existence and a grand, complete, satisfying truth.

_I feel almost good right now. Out here, in the night, with the silence and the bats fluttering off in the distance. Not really Icewing weather is it?—except for the breeze. Then again, it isn't very cold...._ He snorted. _Maybe I've been a Nightwing this entire time. Wouldn't that be a great bit of irony? It'd sure explain a lot._

His eyes followed the path of the moonlight up to the sky. He smiled softly.

_I wonder if Moon is out there looking at the same sky?_ A long, icy sigh slipped from his snout.

_It's been awhile since I've really thought about her. I dropped her quick... didn't I? Only took Summer a couple days and she had me wrapped around her talons...._

He sighed, knowing the thought was an exaggeration, but feeling too tired to think about it further. He shifted uncomfortably and his chest tightened again.

“Winter.”

The voice came from behind him, but he remained still.

“Hey,” he said, his voice meeker than he'd intended it to be.

“Can I sit down?” She sniffed.

Winter turned toward her, his brow furled with concern. “Y-Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

_Has she been crying...? Why? And why does she seem so... serious? Maybe she feels that bad about dumping me?_

They sat in silence for a few moments, Summer sniffling occasionally, and then finally, she began to speak.

“I'm sorry.”

“No, I'm sorry.” Winter began, much to the surprise of them both.

She regarded him silently for several moments. “...Why?”

“For being... an idiot.”

“What do you mean?”

“The mushroom trip. I... get it if you don't want anything to do with me—that was embarrassing, and it was shameful. You went out there to have a good time and I went and... freaked out and ruined it. I'm sorry.” He kept his eyes aimed at the forest; his cheeks burned. “But I just-”

“-Winter,” she said with a chuckle. She put a talon up to her snout and chuckled again. And then she began to laugh.

Winter watched her with panic in his eyes. His brows tightened and his cheeks burned like fire. “What? Why are you laughing? Don't laugh at that!” He bared his teeth. “Stop it!”

“It's okay!” She forced herself to settle down. “I'm not laughing at you. I'm saying I don't blame you! I _respect_ you for that. For showing me that.” She fell into another fit of laughter. “It's... this is... _totally_ unrelated....”

“Oh,” his shoulders relaxed. He frowned. “Then... what's so funny?”

She was laughing too hard to answer. Winter watched her, confused, not even wondering what was funny now, but was wondering what could _possibly_ be _this_ funny.

_This isn't even insulting anymore.... It's just, weird. I didn't say anything did I...? Did I do something? Do I look weird?_ He clenched his jaw with frustration. _WHY IS SHE LAUGHING?_

Her talon came up to her chest, the other up to her mouth. The laughter intensified. In place of noise, there was more struggling for air and breathless chuckling and head shaking.

And then Winter noticed something odd. A strange movement in her back, like an occasional lurch. A look, a strain in her face. The occasional sound of escaping laughter beginning to sound more and more like sobs.

And then, before he knew what to do, before he knew what was even happening, she'd buried herself in his chest and was sobbing. He could feel warm tears leaving her eyes, dribbling on to his cold scales. He could feel the warmth of her scales against his—that dream like warmth he'd actually believed he'd never feel again.

And then it hit him.

_She doesn't hate me._

_She doesn't blame me or think I'm dumb or a child or anything like that for crying._

_She respected it...._

He looked down at her, and he pulled her into a hug.

And then something else hit him

Somehow, for some reason far beyond his grasp, for some reason that troubled his soul and made him feel queasy at the base of his stomach, he'd managed to convince himself that she didn't love him, just like he'd previously convinced himself she was a spy.

He'd known the spy accusation was insane deep down, but he still went and called her one. He'd KNOWN it was impossible, illogical, even stupid, but he'd done it anyway--and in a way, he'd half-believed it, he'd half-convinced himself that his inane, endlessly spiraling thoughts were justified, validated, that they were sane.

This was no different. His strange conclusions earlier had all grossly missed the mark—that much was apparent now. This meant that she was sad for some other reason, and Winter had been acting like a victim, literally _trying_ to make her feel worse.

_But I... I didn't know. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know I was hurting her. I didn't know she was... in this much pain...._

“I-I'm... I'm sorry.” He muttered, unable to steady his voice.

She just shook her head, wiping her tears on him, sob after sob still escaping.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't realize... that....”

“Winter, no, no, I'm the sorry one....” She broke into my hysterical sobbing. “I'm such a liar! I'm such a worthless, disgusting, hybrid of a liar!”

_A... hybrid of a liar?_

_A... hybrid...._

_...She hates herself, doesn't she?_

He thought back to history class.

_'Being pitied by a hybrid from Possibility....'_ He grimaced. _Summer, you're not the disgusting one out of the two of us.... Not even close._

“I'm so sorry, Winter! I shouldn't have let all this happen! I shouldn't have _ever_ come here!” She broke into more sobbing.

“Shh, shh... it's okay, just... tell me what's the matter.”

“I can't!” She cried out pitifully. He hated seeing her like this—so broken, so out of control. This wasn't her at all.... “I wish I could tell you, oh _claws_ I want to so badly....” She sank back into his chest.

He let her sob for several minutes. When she calmed down, he whispered in her ear: “Just tell me. I promise I won't get mad. No matter what it is.”

She shook her head, wiping more tears on him.

“You can tell me anything.... _Anything.”_ He smiled. “Even if you're a spy. I won't report you or get mad or anything.”

She tightened her grip around him, and then slowly broke into more sobs. “I... I can't....”

“Shhhh.”

“I know you won't get mad, I know you won't. It would... it would be easier if you would.”

Winter hugged her a bit tighter and let her sob some more.

_What the hell is she hiding from me? It has to be something pretty serious to justify all this.... Is it something that I wouldn't get mad at, because it's something_ nobody _would get mad at? Or does she just trust me and my emotions enough to expect me to keep from getting mad? For her sake?_

_...No, that's impossible. My emotions have been about everything other than trustworthy so far...._

She shook her head again, wordlessly. After awhile, she began to slow down on the crying, until she'd stopped completely and relaxed into his body.

“Do you feel better?” He asked after a bit, in his most soothing voice—which unfortunately came out slightly regal.

“Yes, I do,” she sniffed. “Prince Winter.”

He smiled down at her.

“I'm... just sorry.”

“Really, Summer.... You can tell me. You can tell me _anything._ So please... what is the problem? I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong.”

She pried herself from his grasp and sat next to him, against him, their bodies and wings and talons together. “I'm sorry. I can't tell you. Not yet. B-But I will—or least... you'll find out, sooner or later....”

“Um, that sounds a little... ominous?”

She snorted, smiling for the first time. “It does, but don't worry, It's nothing to worry about. I'm not the second coming of Darkstalker or anything.

“...I certainly hope not.” Winter cocked a brow. “I don't know if I have it in me to save the world again. I can only get exiled so many times before I'm just living in the woods.”

She chuckled. “Don't worry... no fear of exile here. And by the way, I bet you could save the world again if you really wanted to. I bet you'd be the best man for the job.”

He smiled. “...We haven't even determined the job yet. What if it involves a volcano or camouflage scales?”

“Sometimes it's not about the tools. Sometimes you just need... somebody strapping.” She put a talon on his chest.

His body tightened, his spine straightening in a very noticeable fashion.

Summer laughed. “You dork.”

Winter reddened.

They stayed silent for a bit. After awhile, they got up and headed in the direction of his room. When they reached his sleeping cave, she said that it was late and that she should go, but she lingered and looked in his eyes, and Winter eventually put a talon on her shoulder and brought her close to him.

They entered his room and silently slipped on to his bed. Trout was snoring gently beside them in his pond. Winter examined Trout's sleeping form, and found he actually looked quite innocent, and yes, as Summer had said, sensitive and _possibly_ a bit vulnerable. He wondered why he had not seen it sooner in this weird, outcast of a dragonet. Watching Trout's chest rise gently up and down, he couldn't help but feel a bit... guilty.

By the time he turned his attention to Summer's form, which had curled up in a ball in front of him, she was already soundly asleep. He laid his head down, ready to join her.

_For now, I'll just enjoy the good dreams.... Maybe in my dreams I'll live in the woods. Not from exile, but as a matter of choice. I'll live in that nice cottage, with that constant cool breeze and that sweet, warm, dragon-scale heat which permeates every crack. And I'll catch fish for myself and for Summer and she'll make pies and maybe, just maybe we'll have our own little fish...._

He fell asleep smiling.

 


	14. Aphrodite's Rock

**Chapter 14: Aphrodite's Rock**   
  


  
  


**Summer**

  
  


I'm in Possibility.

Just a dragonet again. A tiny little thing. Innocent, ignorant, just trying to survive, and still incapable of taking life for granted.

I'm standing in the market square again, in front of that familiar, wily Sandwing I'd seen involved in all sorts of schemes—all of differing legitimacy. He has a friend with him. An old Icewing, a newcomer to Possibility, with a name I'll never forget.

_Shoggoth._

It's a strange name. A name I've never heard before, not in any of the tribes.

The wily Sandwing is preaching, doing his best to bring over a crowd. It's working. There is the remnants of what looked like a big crowd from earlier, with people coming and going and standing around, observing his wares.

I approach the table, my eyes on Shoggoth the entire time. I haven't seen many Icewings. They're rare here.

His snout is pulled up into a soft, contented smile, and he looks out over the crowd in a manner that seems entirely foreign in a place like Possibility.

His eyes meet mine.

He seems surprised at first—not shocked, and not disgusted, just surprised, with no judgments or amendments or opinions mixed in. His smile widens and he beckons me over.

Back then, I was always out to prove something, always trying to be the strongest, to be threatening and 'worthy.' To be anything other than a target. It's what I had to do to survive.

But I also had to be careful.

I eyed Shoggoth warily as I pushed my way through the small crowd. Dangers aside, I didn't mind his attention so much. It gave me an excuse to stare at him, and I liked looking at Shoggoth. He was pretty and for some reason I trusted him almost immediately. That could be a fatal mistake in Possibility, especially when tangling with the wrong dragon could easily end in death--but I felt inclined to, compelled to trust him at least a bit.

Plus, if I didn't trust him now, I knew that compulsion would manifest later and possibly cause me to trust another dragon, possibly one much worse. It could cause me to end up in a situation with more to lose than the nothing I had in this marketplace.

So really, I _had_ to trust him. It would stupid of me not to.

Anyway, I liked his old wrinkles and that soft smile; that mysterious, confusing, tantalizing smile that didn't look like any smile I'd ever seen before. I wanted to trust it, because I wanted to see more of it.

I arrive at the front of the crowd. I lift up my snout and peer onto the table.

_Ice...._ I think.

My eyes widen. I've never seen anything like it before. Thick blocks of frozen water resting in a block of fluffy colored stuff—probably snow, I imagine.

It's not until I see the Sandwing scoop up a cup full that I realize they're not selling the ice blocks, but rather the fluffy colored stuff—or rather, ice shavings, apparently with fruit juice added.

I stare on with envy as the Sandwing hands a cup of the ice to one of the buyers. The buyer tells a few people how it is, shares it with his friends, and then walks off, enjoying it.

I swallow.

“Hello.”

My head darts up.

“H-Hi.” I stand as straight as my back will let me, and I put on the toughest, smartest act I can manage, to let him know I am not to be messed with, that I am not his to abuse. But I am unfamiliar with Icewings, and I have trouble coming off as confident as I want to. As cool and fascinating as they are, they scare me with their spikes and their blueness and their ice breath—but what's worse than any of that is the unfamiliarity, the fact I've never seen any before. That I don't know what to expect, that I don't know how to _act._

“You look interested.” Shoggoth says with a pleasant smile. “Would you like one? I call them Snowcups.”

“Snowcups...” I repeat. “Yes. I-I mean, no.... I... I don't have anything to trade.”

“Hmm,” he puts a thoughtful talon to his snout. “No metals? Or buttons? Or even old rags? I could maybe give you a discount.”

_A discount...?_ It's not the word that mystifies me, but the tone in which he says it. He sounds like he wants me to have the ice—not for his own gain wealth wise, but... for some other reason.

Had it been anybody other than this wise looking old man, I'd have been wrought with skepticism.

“Sorry, no. I don't have anything.”

He smiled pitifully.

“Here,” he says, a sudden vitality unique to old, wise men replacing the pity. He makes a snowcup and hands it to me. “I think you've earned it, little hybrid.”

I look back at him, at first with confusion to the point I must've looked pained. It is followed by curiosity. I look over at the old Sandwing, to make sure the snowcup isn't going to be slapped out of my talons. He's looking at Shoggoth with concern in his eyes. He looks back and forth between the old dragon and the ice shavings, as if he's as mystified as I am.

I wait for him to say something, but Shoggoth must have been doing him a favor by using him at his stand, because the wily Sandwing stayed quiet. He instead turned away with a shake of his head to continue preaching.

The snowcup was cold in my talons—unnaturally cold. I'd never felt anything like it. I brought it to my snout and pulled it away quickly from the shock. Shoggoth laughed.

I stare at it for a few moments, and then I look up at him.

“Go on,” he says smiling. “Go enjoy it before it melts. They do melt you know—that's why I'm here.” He blows a small wave of frost breath over the ice, refreezing it all. I watch in amazement. I knew what Icewings were capable of from the stories, but I'd never personally seen their infamous frost breath.

I smile widely. The smile makes me feel like a child, so I try to run away, but running away only makes me feel more like a child, so I stop running and force the smile down, but I can't stop moving. I can't keep my snout from curving up _at least a bit_ and I look back at Shoggoth multiple times. Eventually, he looks over and waves at me, but that's it. He turns away to help the rest of the dragons.

Shoggoth presumably left Possibility shortly after—at least, I hope that's what happened. I never saw him again, but I had a new found respect for Icewings and always pressed any chance I had to come into contact with them. I found out most of them were not like him on the surface. They all had their own charm—a charm unique to Icewings, and a charm unique to each individual one—but deep down, there was something immensely big and powerful. A sense of loyalty and ambition and caring unlike any other tribe, a sense of incomparable _nobility,_ and for some reason, whenever I perceived this trait in an Icewing, it summoned up that picture of Shoggoth, that remembrance I'd formed in the few moments we'd interacted.

I open my eyes.

I'm back at Jade Academy, sleeping in a little add-on nook. A literal hole in the wall.

_The best hole in the wall in the world._ I think.

In front of me is Trout, lying sound asleep, a dumb, adorable, droopy look on his face. Behind me is my own personal snowcup: Prince Blizzard-claws. The most precious and unique and special Icewing I've ever met.

The most interesting _dragon_ I've ever met.

It's amazing how much he reminds me of Shoggoth, and all without really being like Shoggoth at all. I wonder if that's how Winter will be when he grows older. I wonder if that's how he is with young dragonets....

A pang travels through my scales and I exhale heavily. Suddenly, I feel very alone and in need of distraction.

I stretch out and yawn. Winter stirs.

“Good morning,” he grumbles, sounding more exhausted then usual.

I flip around to face him. “Good morning, Blizzard-claws.”

“Mmm.” He groans. “Shut up.”

I smile. “But I like your big Blizzard-claws. All the better for pulling me in to kiss.” I snuggle in a bit closer.

I see the bob of his throat as he swallows, and I see his icy cheeks darken a bit.

_He still isn't used to it,_ I think. _Adorable...._

“You can make anything good, can't you?” He sits up and yawns, acting aloof, as if he hadn't just said something painfully romantic.

I smile. “No, I believe you're confusing me with yourself.”

He frowns a bit, clearly embarrassed. “You're awful flirty this morning....”

“It's an important morning.”

“Oh yeah?” He yawns again.

“Yes, I get to wake up next to you.”

He smiles this time and pulls me into a hug. He kisses me on the top of the head. Words don't describe the bliss. They also don't describe the immediate sense of pain that rips through my heart a moment later, the moment he pulls away.

“You'll have to eat lunch alone today, Winter.”

“Hmm?” He looks down at me.

“Yep. I've got some... errands I've got to run.”

“Errands?”

“Mmhm.”

“What kind of errands...?”

“It is a secret.” I smile. “But you'll see.”

He squints at me. “So they _do_ involve me.”

“Don't worry about it, okay? Just accept it.”

“Just accept _what_ exactly?”

His tone becomes a bit harsher, and as usual, it takes up that princely offense that I love so much.

“ _Nothing,_ okay? It's not a big deal just stop dwelling.”

“I'm not dwelling....”

“I don't think enough time has passed for it to be considered 'dwelling,'” Trout suddenly chimes in, looking at them.

“See. Trout agrees.”

I sigh. “Don't worry about it. Just go to _class.”_

“It's still early, though,” he frowns, looking more depressed than usual. “But, yeah, I guess I could go....”

“Oh,” I smile. “My mistake, I guess it's a bit earlier than I thought.” I lie down on the bed. “Come to me, Winter! I need your cool scales against me! Oh! How will I bear this long absence!”

_A long absence...._

He blushes, and then snorts and turns away. “Too late for that. I believe I will go get breakfast.”

“Woe...! What nobility would abandonst his fairest maid?”

Winter ignores me, but I can tell by the way he is frowning that he is enjoying the back and forth deep down.

Trout watches us with a smile on his face.

I feel a bit bad about teasing him so mercilessly, so I decide to catch up to him and eat breakfast and chat with him for a bit.

The day goes by as normal until the end of history. At this point, I would usually go to the prey center to eat and chat with Winter, but today I head somewhere he'd never think to look for me.

The cave with the Seawing pond is lit up by the small blue orbs that are placed against the walls, and the few placed down in the small pit of water. Still, the cave has been sealed up with the exception of the entrance, and with the exception of the animus orbs, there is no light source. I squint as I move toward the shore.

It doesn't take long for me to spot Turtle: the famous animus dragon who had attended Jade Academy during the Darkstalker fiasco and played a critical role in ending the madness. Apparently he had returned to acquire more information on writing, and one of his classes involved just sitting in the library reading, with occasional instruction by Starflight.

In other words, he was like Winter and I. _A_ _special case._

I approached him, the most inviting and friendly and cautious and polite smile I could manage on my face. A smile similar to the one I'd used when I'd introduced myself to Winter's history class. It's an effective smile, a valuable one that I believe has gotten me through a lot of tough situations and padded a lot of rocky introductions.

“Hi,” The soft-featured Seawing says, before I have a chance to initiate the conversation.

“Hello.” I wave. “You're Turtle, right?”

“Yep. And you're... Summer?”

My smile widens. “I am! I'm surprised you know my name.”

“News travels quick. It's not everyday we get a hybrid.” He squirms and his smile turns to a frown. “Oh, um, sorry. I didn't mean it like that.”

“No, no! Not at all! I'm not bothered by it. I've learned to live with my uniqueness--even love it.”

He relaxes and smiles meekly back. “I'm glad. I'd hate to offend you five seconds after meeting you.”

I giggle. “Don't worry, you'd have to try pretty hard to offend me. Possibility is a pretty... not-polite place.

_Winter has good taste in friends...._

He laughs. “Actually, that's part of the reason I know you.” He begins to fiddle with his talons. “You're a special guest, like him. Other than myself, the only two special invites at Jade Academy yet.”

“Yep. It's an honor, too.”

“An honor to meet you.”

I laugh. “Says the prince.”

Turtle blushes a bit and smiles.

“Anyway,” I go on. “I hate to do this... you know, because we're just now meeting. It's just... you're Winter's friend and I figured it might be alright because of that....”

“You want me to use my magick, right?”

My eyes widen and I slowly look up at him. I smile nervously. “You're a smart one, aren't you?”

“I read a lot of books.” He says with an equally nervous smile. “...But no, nothing like that. I get a lot of dragons who come here for favors. You start to notice it before they even ask after awhile. Sometimes by how they talk, other times even by how they walk.”

“Sorry.... I know it's rude to ask for a favor immediately after meeting somebody, but it's... it's important. At least important to me.”

“It's fine. I've learned to live with my uniqueness, even to love it.”

_Hmm, easily flattered._ I thought. _Probably insecure, and also likely easy to manipulate. But from what I hear he is a bit stingy with the powers. He seems nice, though.... There's a chance._

“Heh, clever _and_ smart.” I smile.

He blushes and looks down a bit to avoid my eyes.

“Anyway,” I continue. “I'll take that as a yes, so I wish for infinite treasure.”

He laughs. “If I had a piece of treasure for every time I got that request _I'd_ have infinite treasure. But unfortunately for you, I'm not a genie. Just a dragon... who is basically a genie... I guess. Anyway! What is it you really want and I'll tell you if I can do it or not.”

“It's nothing too big.... I was just wondering if you could enchant this rock for me.”

“A rock enchantment?” Turtle smiles. “My specialty.”

 


	15. Summer of Possibility

# Chapter 15: Summer of Possibility

  
  


**Winter**

  
  


 

_Errands...._

_Errands...._

_What kind of 'errands' could she have to do?_

Winter peaked his head into her sleeping cave entrance and was met by several confused snouts.

_Hmm, she isn't here..._ He pulled away and stood there for a few moments, frowning. _Maybe she's outside on the ledge..._. He moved down the hallway, down toward the entrance to Jade Academy.

_I get she had things to do, but why can't she tell me what they are? Why the secrecy? How and why do they involve me?_ Do _they involve me at all? Or was she just messing around?_

He growled.

_On top of that, why did she rush out of history like that? And_ why _did everybody look at ME when she did it? It was like they were blaming me. Like I did something to her.... I wonder if they looked at her when I rushed out the day before._

His frown intensified. _I hope not._

He came to a stop. _I wonder..._ he thought, turning around. _I may as well check before I go all the way outside._

He walked into his own sleeping cave, and then into the nook that contained his own bed.

“Winter!” A familiar, golden-scaled dragon jumped off his bed with a wide, excited smile.

“There you are. I was looking everywhere....”

“Oh? You were looking for me?” Summer's smile became wry. “I didn't realize I was so popular.”

Winter blushed. “Don't flatter yourself. This is _purely_ business.”

She snorted. “It's business, huh?”

“Yes. What are the errands you had to do during lunch, and how do they involve me?”

“You really are all business, aren't you?” She moved up to him and put her talons on his hips. Her head arched back so she could see his face and she leaned her body against him. “How about a hug first?”

Winter's face burned. “And w-why you're at it, you can tell me why you've been acting so weird.”

“Shhh. I'll tell you in a minute,” she whispered. “Just hug me.”

Winter wrapped his talons around her, and a few moments later, pulled her closer. “You've been all over me today.”

“I haven't even been near you for most of the day,” she pulled away a bit and looked up at him with a smile.

“I meant for the times you've seen me. This morning, and now, and you were staring at me during history.”

“I was not _staring.”_

“You _were_ staring. And if you weren't staring, you were at least looking over at me. And you did it several times.”

“Okay, I _might_ have looked over at you a few times.” She hugged him again.

“Yes, and then you practically ran out of class.” He said dryly.

“It was for a good reason; I promise.”

“Then let's hear it. You've kept me in suspense all day.”

She pulled away and bounced over to his bed. Pressed up against the wall, just out of Winter's direct sight, was a small, round object.

_“_ What's that?”

She smiled softly. A childish smile. An involuntary sort of look he'd never seen from her before. “It's a gift.” She handed it to him.

He picked it up and held it up to his face. “It's....”

“Snow.”

The object was a flat surface of stone, covered with a half-circular piece of transparent glass. Inside was an ice sculpture of the ice palace, made with impeccable detail. It was surrounded by a thin layer of something that looked exactly like snow.

_Snow...? Ice...? The ice palace...??? How is this possible? How could it not melt? What is this made out of...? How did somebody make this, and how does it exist? How did they even know what the ice palace looks like...?_

“Summer, how did you.... I don't....” He stared at the semi-circular object in utter mystification.

“Shake it.”

“Huh?”

“Shake it,” she repeated. “Shake it up.”

He glared at the suspicious object, but began to shake it tentatively after a few moments. All the 'snow' inside of it began to spiral around, as though it was floating in water, and then it started to rain down, almost like it were falling from the sky.... He watched it intently, and for an instant, let himself pretend it actually _was_ the ice palace.

“Summer....” He whispered, still staring at the strange object.

“I call it a Snowstone. It used to be some cave dust and a rock, but I had your friend Turtle enchant it for me. I had him make it look like an exact replica of the ice palace, and he made it so the ice and the snow never melts.”

Winter felt his chest tighten. “It's... amazing.”

“That's not even the best part! It wasn't easy to get him to agree to this, but I had him also enchant it to cheer you up whenever you're missing me or feeling homesick. So if you ever really, really miss home, you can just shake this up and you'll feel better.”

His jaw began to quiver.

She snorted. “It sure is a good thing he responds so well to being flattered by pretty dragons.” She smiled, but it quickly gave way to pleasant surprise. “Awww, Winter, are you cry-”

He leaned forward and pressed his snout against hers. His free talon reached out and landed on her back. He pulled her in, pulled her chest into own. They stood there for several moments, until Winter broke the kiss. He stared into her eyes, with tears in his own.

“Winter....” She said with red cheeks.

“Sorry.”

“No, you don't have to-”

“-I love you.” He interrupted, his breath quick and heavy. “I love you so much.”

She looked back at him, her eyes beginning to water.

“This is the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me. I... I didn't even think you were really listening to me. I knew you were listening, I just mean, I didn't know.... I didn't know you'd do this. I can't....”

“I'm sorry.” She said, her voice breaking.

“Wh-What's wrong?” He asked alarmed. “Is something wrong? Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head and smiled. “I'm a monster, Winter. A selfish monster.”

“What?”

She pushed him back. Her eyes, suddenly dull and serious, followed him. “It's one thing to hurt myself, but another to hurt you. To hurt somebody so special.... I guess that's why I'm such a monster.”

“Summer, what are you-”

She kissed him.

“I've been planning it for a long time, Winter.”

“You've been planning what?” He whispered back, his face red. “The kiss?”

“It shouldn't be a surprise.” She kissed him again, and didn't pull away for several moments. “...Then again, how could you have ever seen it coming? Possibility taught me to hide things so well.” She kissed him again.

Winter tried to pull away, but she was forceful. He could have overpowered her easily, but....

_It just... feels so... warm...._

“You're so special, Winter.” The dull seriousness in her eyes faded and gave way to sullenness. “I hope you know that.”

“Please tell me what's-”

She kissed him again. “Let's not talk about that anymore. Can we just... kiss for awhile?”

“Will you tell me what has you so... bothered? At some point?”

She smiled in a way that reminded him of the mystery in that smile he'd first seen on her. Except now, with the contortion of her brow and the wide, wet look in her eyes, it struck him as almost poisonous, almost terrifying to gaze upon.

“I will, Winter. You'll know soon enough.” And she kissed him again.

_Should I... do something about this? What is she talking about? This is getting creepy.... I know she isn't a spy; she isn't... doing anything spy-y... is she? And she also told me it isn't 'Darkstalker-level,' so it couldn't be_ that _bad, could it?_

_But what does that even mean? If it_ was _the second coming of Darkstalker, would she tell me? What could she be hiding and why...?_

They kissed for awhile. Too long for Winter to even estimate a time frame. All he knew was that kissing never seemed to get old, and Trout had not returned yet— _maybe she planned on this and told him not to come back tonight?_ He wondered.

They went back and forth, kissing for a bit, touching each other, brushing their snouts up against each others, and then they'd rest, to prepare for the next bout of adolescent pawing.

They talked a bit, on and off, between kissing. Nothing deep or serious, and she still seemed depressed, but she'd returned to her normal self at least a bit. After awhile, she drifted off to sleep. Winter thought about it all as his eyes grew heavy, and the warmth radiating off her scales started to lull him into unconsciousness.

_What is this mysterious dragon from Possibility hiding from me? I really only met her a few days ago. I've... had so many experiences with her so quickly. I feel like I know her so well. But... I know so little about her. The only thing I know is that she seems to legitimately care, to legitimately care about_ me _. And that I legitimately love her._

_What are the chances? That I would end up falling for somebody here? That I would end up falling for another Nightwing—or at least a part Nightwing. What are the chances I would even meet this mysterious dragon in the first place? That we'd find each other on this huge continent? That I'd find her before someone else...._

_It could have been so easy for her not to have come here. So easy for me to have just... stayed out in the field to study the scavengers. I almost did. I came so close to it, but I wanted to learn about their history here. To learn more about the world in general._

_What would have happened if I hadn't? What would have happened if_ she _hadn't? In fact, why is she here at all? What brought this tribeless dragon here in the first place...?_

_In fact..._ Winter felt his eyes shutting. He tried to keep them open, but he kept getting pulled deeper and deeper into that recognizable, blissful state. How _did she come here? I was accepted as a special guest here because of my history._

His shutting eyes opened one more time, to gaze at the back of her head. _Why were you accepted here, Summer of Possibility? What is it that makes you so special...?_

_Besides the obvious...._

He drifted off into sleep.

 


	16. Chapter 7

**Chapter 16: Chapter 7**

 

  
  


Winter woke up to the feeling of warmth against his scales, but it felt... odd.

Pleasant, but unfamiliar in a way he couldn't quite pinpoint.

His eyes slid open slowly at first, but they widened quickly. He'd expected the source of the warmth to be Summer, but she was nowhere to be found. He sat up, slightly alarmed. He put a talon to his bed and calmed a moment later.

_It's just the bed enchantment. It's trying to make me comfortable by mimicking Summer's warm scales...._

_Disturbing._

He sat up and looked around. Trout was back. He was sleeping soundly in his pond.

_Maybe she was hungry...._ He thought. _Nothing weird about that._

_Or maybe she just wanted to move around? Maybe she even wanted a bit of space—we did just share a bed, after all. Nothing weird about wanting some space. Some fresh air...._

He frowned. _Then why do I feel so wrong?_

A small object appeared in the corner of his eyes after he rose. He lifted it up and held it close to his eyes.

_The Snowstone..._

He shook it, and the moment the small bits of snow-like substance began to rain down, he felt a bit better.

_Do I miss her? Is that all this feeling is?_

He put the Snowstone down and stood.

_Probably...._

Winter headed to the prey center to find her. If she wanted to be left alone, he'd be more than happy to give her some space, but... he needed to see her. He needed to see she was okay.

But she wasn't there.

_If it's just loneliness, shouldn't the Snowstone have made me feel normally?_

He headed back from where he'd come, to see if she were back in her own sleeping cave.

_She said if I was missing her or homesick, it would make me feel better. Not necessarily 'normal' or 'good.' Either way, I... I don't think it's that. Something just feels off._

Checking her sleeping cave bore no fruit. He asked her clawmates if they'd seen her, but they said they hadn't—not since yesterday.

He turned away from the cave with a pursed brow.

_It's not serious,_ he reminded himself. _She could be anywhere. With the administrators, outside, in a class somewhere. Anywhere. There are so many places to check, so many possible options. It doesn't mean something bad has happened...._

He swallowed.

_Why am I even worrying? Like I need to worry about_ her _of all people. If anything I should worry about myself for being involved with somebody so... capable._

He blushed.

_Maybe she doesn't even want to be found. Is this a bit neurotic? It is... creepy? Hunting her down like this?_

He sighed and fiddled with his talons. _No, this... this isn't 'hunting her down.' If she wants to be alone, that's fine, but this doesn't feel right._ He moved down the hall. _I need to find her. And soon._

His pace accelerated.

_Then I'll leave you alone.... Once I know you're safe. Once I know everything is alright._

He arrived at the history class and peeked in the door.

No Summer.

He checked with Sunny, Clay, and several dragons he knew from history.

Nobody had seen her since yesterday.

He began to panic.

_Something is seriously wrong here. Something_ has _to be wrong. I get she might not_ want _to be seen, but what's the point of the secrecy? How could nobody see her if she was still in Jade Academy...?_

_She's a spy._

_-Shut up._ He thought to himself bitterly. _Just shut up now._

He reached the exit of the academy. His chest heaved with every deep breath as he scanned the balcony.

No Summer.

_...She's a spy._

_SHUT UP!_

Droplets of rain began dribbling on his snout. He looked up at the sky and watched a looming black mass of clouds drift over head, a torrent of heavy rain visible off in the distance.

Reluctantly, he headed back inside, below the cover of the mountain.

_Where could she be...? I've looked everywhere, nobody's seen her, and I can't think of anyone else who-_

_-_ He went still, suddenly remembering something she'd said the night before:

“ _I call it a Snowstone. It used to be some cave dust and a rock, but I had your friend Turtle enchant it for me. I had him make it look like an exact replica of the ice palace, and he made it so the ice and the snow never melts._ ”

_Something about this... seems important...._

_“I call it a Snowstone. It used to be some cave dust and a rock, but I had your friend Turtle enchant it for me.”_

_But what could it be...? Some kind of hint? A clue?_

_“I call it a Snowstone.”_

_WAIT_

_I think I see now...._

_The phrase “I call it a Snowstone” is exactly 17 characters long. It is 21 if you count the spaces. The twenty-first letter in the alphabet starting from 'a' is 'u;' however, if I were to take the 1 from 21 and subtract it from the original value 21, I'd be left with 20. The 2 would remain, as a significant figure, and the 1 would cancel itself out, resulting in a value of zero._

_Now if I was to associate a letter of the alphabet with this new value, the logical letter would be 'T.' So I have U, and I have T._

_Now if I was to evaluate 'T' from an alternative perspective—we'll say as the 7_ _th_ _letter in the alphabet, starting with 'Z' and going in reverse (I.E. a reverse alphabet value)—then I could add that to its original alphabet value of 20, resulting in 27. If I were to add 2 and 7 I would get 9._

_9 also appears if I was to take 21, the number for the aforementioned U, add those numbers (2 and 1, respectively) to get 3, and then take the reverse alphabet value associated with 21, which would be 6, and then add them all. This would be 3 (the sum of the two values in the alphabet value) plus 6 (the reverse alphabet value)._

_The now established significance of 9 begs the question of its alphabet value: which is either I or R, depending on whether or not I'm using the reverse value or the forward. So I have U, T, and I/R._

_I and R are a fascinating case because they are mirror images of each other algebraically speaking. Their associated alphabet values, both reverse and otherwise, are 9 and 18, each the inverse of the other. This brings significance to 9, 18, the quotients between the two, which is both 2 and .5, the sum between them, which is 27, and their product, which is 162._

_The real key here is 9. I could immediately assume this represents the presence of a repeat: I.E. another I/R. The problem is that this potentially results in an infinity, so putting that possibility to the side for now, I will assume something more is going on. I know that the sum of 9 and 18 is 27, and the sum of 2 and 7 is 9. I know that the sum of 1 and 8 is 9. I know the product is 162, and 1 plus 6 plus 2 is 9 as well._

_9 is clearly a Number of Power here. But I've established it isn't the key to the next step of this puzzle. So what is?_

_Well, it seems that 2 appears several times here. It is in the product, and since I and R are mirror images, we have 2 of them total. Maybe the trick isn't in the infinity, but in the number of infinities...._

_So the real, hidden number is 2. This means there is either two I's, two R's, a single B, or a Y (the respective alphabet values, forward and reverse). So we officially have U, T, I/R, and I/R/B/Y_

_Numerically speaking, this last value is now 9/18/2/25(18/9/25/2). Now, with 2 as such an important value, I should take note of how many 2's are present in his last value. I have a total of 2 of them, and if I count the mirror image, I have a total of 4._

_Two 2's. 22. This means our next letter is likely V/E, depending on whether or not we go forward or backward._

_This seems like the best evaluation_. _When things get this complicated, it's best to pick the simple, most eloquent route._

_This means I now have U, T, I/R, I/R/B/Y, and V/E. A total of five potential letters, not counting variables. The value 5 also appears in both V and E, in their inverted alphabet values in relation to 22. The sum of 2 and 2 is 4, and the sum of 4 and 5 is 9. I return to 9._

_The product of 2 and 2 is 4. The product of 4 and 5 is 20. We return to 20._

_If I add 9 and 20, I'm given 29. If I add them again, I get 11, a sacred number. So with 11 I can discern multiple possibilities. It could be an A with a variance of 1, meaning it would be either an Z, A, or B. It could be a Z with the same variance: making it either a Y, Z, or A. It could the 11_ _th_ _letter forward, K. Or it could be the 11_ _th_ _letter in reverse, P._

_This means I might have a Z/A/B, Y/Z/A, K/P; or reduced, it is a Y/Z/A/B/K/P._

_But there is another possibility as well...._

_If I add the independent values of 11 together—I.E. 1 and 1—I get 2. There are also two 1's in 11. The product is 22. The reverse value associated with 22 is 5. If I put the numbers together, I could get 21 or 12, combining which results in like the sickest album of all time (2112). 12 represents L, and the reverse number associated with L just happens to be 15. One 5. Two 2's is 4, but if I add the missing 1, I get 5 again. If I add 5 and 1 I get 6, which just happens to be the sum if I add the independent values of 21 and 12(2+1+1+2)._

_L is associated with 15 and 12. Thus the next latter is L._

_That means I have U, T, I/R, I/R/B/Y, V/E, and L. This gives me sixteen different options for possible letter combinations not counting order._

_UTIIVL, UTIIEL, UTIRVL, UTIREL, UTIBVL, UTIBEL, UTIYVL, UTIYEL, UTRIVL, UTRIEL, UTRRVL, UTRREL, UTRBVL, UTRBEL, UTRYV, UTRYEL...._

_“_ Ugh!” Winter put a talon to his head. “Something isn't... right. I did something wrong. I have to have messed up, but wh-”

_-The I/R! I'm such an idiot! They represent 9 and 18 respectively. If I simply add those value together I am given 27. This means the respective letters are potentially Y/B/G/T. All of these are significant, but there is one that stands out._

_T._

_It is 7_ _th_ _letter in reverse, and this is the_ second _usage of it, if it is indeed the latter._

_This would mean that my options are now U, T, T again, I/R/B/Y, V/E/ and L, and my possibilities are:_

_UTTIVL, UTTIEL, UTTRVL, UTTREL, UTTBVL, UTTBEL, UTTYVL, UTTYEL._

_UTTIVL... no._

_UTTIEL... no, that doesn't make sense either._

_UTTRVL... absolutely meaningless._

_UTTREL... no, that's not-_

_WAIT!_

Winter's eyes shot open wide.

_UTTREL..._

_TUTREL..._

_TUTRLE..._

_TURTLE...!_

_“_ Maybe she's with Turtle!” He looked down at his claws and grimaced. “She has to be. If not... I don't know where else I'll even look. But, I guess the question now is....

_Where is Turtle?_

He stared down at the rocky floor, deep in thought.

_This early in the morning there's only one place Turtle would be.... In the library._

He moved toward the library with long, rushed strides, but he slowed down quickly and came to a stop.

_Do I even really want to find her there... with him?_

He jolted a bit, surprised by the suddenness of the thought.

_Of course I do! What I_ want _is to find Summer above all, regardless of what she's doing._

_I want to find her._

_I NEED to find her._

_Even if she's with Turtle. Alone. In the early, early morning...._ He swallowed.

As he neared the library, his thoughts became more insistent.

_Do you really want to find her there? Flirting with him? Giving him secret attention?_ He slowly came to another stop, right before the library entrance. He looked at it, pitifully, like a child looks at a broken toy. _She admitted it herself when she gave you the globe. She said he responded well to 'flattery.'_

_...What does that mean? 'Flattery?'_

_“_ No....” he closed his eyes. He realized that this voice in his head sounded a lot like the one who had called Summer a spy. It sounded a lot like the one who had suspected her of not loving him. It sounded like the voice that had tormented him over whether or not Moon liked him, over whether or not Qibli liked him. Whether Kinkajou respected him, or, as embarrassing as it was to even put into mental words....

_...whether or not Peril thought I was cool._

“I want to find her. I want to make sure she is okay. Even if... even if _I'm_ not going to be okay.”

He moved toward the entrance of the library, terrified. He wasn't sure why he had to feel this way. Why he had to choose between outrage and fear. Why outrage felt so much better in the short term. Why his mind was so far disconnected from his emotions.

But when he entered, he saw Starflight, and then, sitting in the back reading a scroll was Turtle, looking as innocent as ever.

_No Summer...._ He frowned. _But maybe...._

“Hello?” Starflight said.

Turtle looked up from his book. “Winter!” He stood and rushed over. “It's been so long since I've seen you. How did you like the Snowstone?” He smiled and blushed a bit. “Summer practically begged me to make it for you. I couldn't really say no to her.”

Winter felt something strange in his stomach. It wasn't exactly relief, but it wasn't exactly NOT relief either.

_Why do I feel relieved at all...?”_ He grumbled in his head.

“Turtle, have you seen Summer? It's important; I haven't seen her all morning.”

Starflight turned toward us. “Summer?”

“Yeah, I woke up and she was gone and, I don't know, I just have a bad feeling. I can't find her. Nobody's seen her since yesterday.”

“Hmm, that's... disturbing.” Turtle furled a brow.

“Um, I don't mean to change topic but...” Starlight shifted on his walking stick uncomfortably. “You woke up and she was gone? Does that mean you were two were... uh....”

Winter's eyes widened and he blushed a bit. “Does it matter?!” He snapped. “I'm really worried here so I would APPRECIATE it if you would FOCUS.”

Starlight took a tentative step back and smiled meekly. “Sorry.”

“So _neither_ of you have seen her then?” He asked, frustrated.

“No, I haven't seen her since yesterday.” Turtle said. “Not since I enchanted her rock.”

“Hmm?” Starflight looked in his direction. “You enchanted a rock?”

“Yes, it was a little ornament to make Winter feel better when he misses home, and to make him feel better whenever he misses her-”

“-WE GET IT.” Winter barked, blushing like mad.

Turtle smiled and looked down toward the floor. “S-Sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass y-”

“-Okay-okay-okay-okay-whatever it doesn't matter.”

_I don't see why that had to be brought up at all, TURTLE. Let alone in front of Starflight, of all dragons...._ He looked over at Starflight, by far his least favorite of the prophecy dragonets. He was frowning tightly.

“Mmm,” Starflight fiddled with his walking stick and gazed upward a bit, in thought. “You said if he ever missed her at the end there, didn't you?”

Turtle looked over at him. “Um, yeah. Why?”

“That _is_ disturbing.”

Winter furled a brow and squinted. “...Why is that disturbing...?”

“W-Well, because of her... issues.”

He took a step closer. “What issues?”

Starflight stood there for several seconds, a strange look on his face, then his back straightened. “You mean... she never told you?”

“What are you talking about?” Turtle asked.

“She didn't tell you either.... I wonder if she told anybody other than us....” He was no doubt referring to the other prophecy dragonets, Winter thought.

“What exactly IS it she didn't tell us?” Winter asked, his frustration rekindling.

Starflight looked down uncertainly, and then up. “I... I normally wouldn't tell you something like this. Out of respect for Summer. But... considering the circumstances, I think my wings are tied.”

“Yes?” Winter pressed, involuntarily drawing nearer to him.

_Is this the secret? Is this the thing that has confounded me time and time again? The mystery behind her strange appearance and even stranger behavior and words? The thing I've been thus far completely INCAPABLE of understanding?_

Winter swallowed.

_...This is it._

_I'm finally gonna know._

_I'm FINALLY going to know!_

He hated to admit it, but he was getting excited. He knew it was wrong to feel that way, especially so prematurely, and even more so since he had a strong feeling it was a bad piece of news. But he couldn't help it. He wanted to know. He wanted to know more than anything.

“It's just... her health problems.” Starflight hawed and coughed, and then stood there for several more moments, looking a pitiful mixture of confused, nervous, and maybe a little sick to his stomach.

“Health... problems...?” Winter squinted, cocking his head to the side.

“Yes. She has a rare, incurable disease in her muscles. It's... it's terminal. And, um... I'm sorry, but... she isn't supposed to live more than a couple more years.”

 


	17. That One Song by The Fray

**Chapter 17: That One Song by The Fray**

  
  


  
  


“Um, Winter?”

“Yes?”

Turtle swallowed. “Are you okay? You... haven't said anything in awhile. Or, uh... moved.”

“I'm fine.”

They stood there in silence for several more moments. Winter's body felt heavy. He felt dizzy. Confused.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly. “That was some pretty rough news you just got there....”

Winter snorted, and then laughed softly to himself. “'Some pretty rough news,” he repeated with amusement, his smile fading as quickly as it came. “No,” he said suddenly serious. “I don't think I'm okay, Turtle.”

“Winter, do you need someone to talk to? I can get Sunny or Clay if you'd-”

“-No.” He said sternly. “She's going to die and nothing can change that. ...Least of all Sunny or Clay.”

Both Turtle and Starflight stood stiff and turned to face each other.

“...Sorry, Winter.” Turtle said meekly.

“You're positive?” He asked, turning toward Starflight. “You're absolutely, 100% positive?”

“It's incurable, Winter. I've never heard of a single case ever being cured. Not even in myths.”

They stood there for a few more silent moments. “I love her.” Winter said suddenly.

They both faced him, sadly.

“She's... going to die.” He said it again, slowly this time, as if he were tasting the words. “I should go see her.”

“I think that would be a good idea.” Starflight answered.

“Where is she...?” Winter looked around the library, as if he expected to find her there, as if she'd been there the whole time. “Where did she go?”

“I don't-”

“WHERE IS SHE?!” He screamed, slamming his talon down on the desk. “Just _tell me, where, she is.”_ He hissed, his breathing now heavy and rapid and cold, his eyes wide at first with rage, and a moment later with terror and urgency as well.

“Winter,” Starflight answered hoarsely. “I don't know.”

Winter's jaw quivered and his entire body shook with emotion.

Turtle tentatively brushed his own wing against Winter's. “Maybe you should sit down for a few minutes. Get yourself-”

_“-_ No.” He shook his head. “I need to see her. I...” He looked around again and swallowed. “I need to see her right now. Right now.” He was breathing even faster now. His vision blurred, some of it from the film of moisture now over his eyes, some of it from the lightheadedness now swimming in his skull.

“We know.” Starflight said sternly. “But you don't know where she's at. Running around like a mad dragon isn't going to make this situation any better.”

Winter moved around, not moving from the spot, but not standing still. “I have to see her...! I can't just-I can't just....” He shook his head. “She can't be. Please tell me you were lying!”

“I'm sorry, Winter.”

“No! Shut up! Shut up!” He clutched his face with his talons. “...Why wouldn't she tell me?”

“She probably didn't want to hurt you.” Turtle said.

“She didn't want to hurt _me?!”_ He looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears that he desperately tried to keep inside. “That's insane! She's the one... who's....” His face scrunched up and he reburied it beneath his talons.

Turtle put a reassuring wing against his.

_Where ARE you...?_ He thought.

And then he heard her voice in his head.

_“I'm a monster, Winter. A selfish monster.”_

_“It's one thing to hurt myself, but another entirely to hurt you. To hurt somebody so special.... I guess that's why I'm such a monster.”_

_It's... one thing... to hurt myself...._ Winter's face emerged from his talons slowly.

_“I've been planning it for a long time, Winter.”_

_You've been planning what, Summer?_ His eyes opened a bit wider. His jaw loosened in confusion. _What have you been planning...?_

_“It shouldn't be a surprise.”_

_No, of course not... I...._

_“Then again, how could you have ever seen it coming? Possibility taught me to hide things so well.”_

_What was I supposed to see coming...?_

_“You're so special, Winter.”_

_It couldn't be... you couldn't have meant...._ He shook his head slowly.

_“You're so special, Winter. I hope you know that.”_

_...Do you know how special you are to me, Summer?_

_“I've been planning it for a long time, Winter.”_

_...Will you tell me what has you so bothered? At some point?_

_“It shouldn't be a surprise. I'm a monster, Winter. A selfish monster.”_

_No, you're not.... I'm the selfish monster._

_“You're so special, Winter.... I hope you know that.”_

_“I've been planning it for a long time, Winter.”_

_“It shouldn't be a surprise.”_

_Will you tell me what has you so...bothered? At some point....?_

Winter's eyes widened. A tear ran down his cheek.

_“I will, Winter. You'll know soon enough.”_

“No....” He whispered. “No.”

“Winter...?” Turtle looked at him with concern. “Come on, Winter, please, you're really starting to-”

He faced him. Turtle immediately went quiet. Winter could feel the despair oozing off his own expression. The terror and helplessness and utter shock—and above all the crushing feeling of needing to do something _right this instant._

“I-I have to stop her!” He bolted from the room without another word.

He didn't look back to see if Turtle had followed him. He didn't care if Turtle had followed him. He didn't care if Starflight and Fatespeaker and the entire mountain were on his tail. He had only one thing on his mind, one dragon.

He took flight and soared out of the Jade Academy entrance. He ascended into the pouring rain, up the side of the mountain. Within an instant, he was soaked. His waterlogged wings lifted and fell with heavy swings, but he moved as quickly as he ever had in any dry wind, and as quick as he ever would.

_Except that one time...._ He thought desperately. _That one time we free-fell from the sky...._

_Summer,_ please _wait for me. Please, please, please...._ He clenched his jaw and frowned tightly. _You better be waiting... after... after everything you've said. After everything we've done together...._

_After all this time...._

He continued up the side of Jade Mountain. Somehow, he knew he'd find her there. He could feel it in his bones.

_She'll be waiting...._

_She has to be...._

_Please let her be... alive...._

_Oh claws, please,_ please _let her be waiting!_

When he reached the top, he ascended higher so he could see the whole plateau. He saw her immediately, standing so close to the edge that the tips of her claws hung off. Her wings were pulled back and in, nearly against her body. She stood up entirely straight, letting the rain and wind whip around her. Her snout was ascended upward, as if she were looking at the sky.

He swooped down toward her, at her, and then into her. He tackled her and they rolled and slid across the rock, going still on the slippery surface moments later, water pouring down on them.

Never before had the warmth of her scales felt so good against his own. Against the cold rain dropping down from the sky. Against the eerie wind that blew like ice between their scales.

“Hello, Winter. It seems you found me.” She smiled painfully. “And judging by the way you won't stop hugging me, it seems you found me out as well.”

“Why?” He bellowed from the bottom of his stomach, a wretched noise of sorrow and mystification. “Why would you hide that from me? Why would you, why would you....” His head sank. It hung there for a moment, low, and then it went back down, next to hers, facing the rock below, his entire body splayed atop hers.

“Sorry....” She whispered. “I... wanted to. But I didn't know if it was right.”

“So you lied to me instead?! Do you know how many... how many _things_ I've said to you because I felt something was wrong? The things I've done because I thought it was something different?”

She smiled again. “Yes. I remember you threatening to detain me.”

“Shut up!” He barked, his tears invisible in the rain. “You don't get to joke about that! Not after... _this!_ What is _wrong_ with you?!” He loomed above her, still pinning her down, staring into her eyes.

“A disease,” she answered honestly. “I'm going to die. I would say that's what's wrong with me.”

Winter's face tightened in shock. Outrage remained, but a great deal of it had diminished with her last comment. Then his eyes tightened and his snout curled into a tight frown. “Why? Why didn't you just tell me? You had no right not to tell me, and I had a right to know!”

She closed her eyes. “I know....”

“Then why?! Why would you lie about this?”

“Because I'm a selfish monster, Winter.”

“Shut up!” He screamed, smacking his talon on the rock inches from her head. “Stop saying that! Just shut up and stop saying that!” He put his head down to hide his sobs, but he looked up a moment later with his heart hardened.

“Why did you have Turtle enchant that _dumb_ rock? Why did you ask him for _that?!_ He can _cure you._ Why didn't you ask him to cure you? He would have done it.... Wait....” Winter's shoulders slouched a bit. He looked at her confused. “Starflight knew... so... why didn't....”

Winter's head ached with the contradiction that loomed in his mind. Starflight had told him there was no cure. He'd been referring to a _natural_ cure, but he'd said it knowing of Turtle, he'd said it _in front_ of Turtle.

“It's not possible.” She said blankly. “I can't be cured. Not even by Turtle.”

“What?” He barked. “What do you mean? Animus magic can do anything.”

“Not bring a dragon back from the dead.”

“You're not _dead!”_

“I may as well be, because part of 'being able to do anything' means being able to restrict. All a dragon has to do is make their magic invulnerable to other magic with a few words or even a thought--and suddenly, it is. That's the _problem,_ Winter. Animus magic can do anything. Including make itself immune to other animus spells.”

“But that doesn't make any sense. That would mean that... your disease was.....” His voice trailed off. He stared down at her, a cross of shock and mystification on his face.

“Yes. The disease is a spell.”

Winter jolted. He stared at her for several, long moments, his eyes wide. “No,” he shook his head. “That's impossible.”

“No, it's very possible.”

“Why?! Who did it?! Why did they do it?! I swear, I'll kill them! I'll kill them with my own claws if they don't undo it!”

“Impossible, because the spell wasn't cast on me.”

“...What?” He looked down at her empty, sad form. He could still feel the warmth coming off her body; it was the sole reason he stayed on top of her, even though he justified it by saying it was to prevent her from doing something 'dangerous' to herself.

“The spell was cast on.... Well, I don't know who it was cast on. But it wasn't me. It was... a family member. All I know is that it's been passed down to me, and it's been with us for a very long time. Good thing all my grandmothers had a lot of kids while they were young, otherwise I'd have never been born.”

Winter stared down at her, stricken with sorrow and confusion.

“...And then,” she went on. “I'd have never gotten to meet you.” She smiled.

“...I don't believe you.” Winter shook his head slowly. “It's not possible. It can't be.”

“It happened, Winter. I don't know exactly why. My mom didn't seem to know why, either. We're not exactly... close. But she said it might involve us being hybrids.”

“...Your mom was a hybrid too?”

“She was, yes.”

“I... see. Does that mean you have more than just two types of tribe in you?”

“It does. But I guess only two show as dominate. It's just how it works, I guess. We're a mutt family.”

“A mutt family....” he uttered softly.

“But that doesn't matter much right now. I'll give you the full story of my family later, if that's what you want, what little bit I know. For now, though....” She looked down at him.

His expression softened. “So... you're not... gonna do anything, right?”

“No, Winter. I'm not going to do anything. I... I wasn't really going to do it anyway.”

He rolled off of her, and when he saw her still lying there, he lied down next to her.

She chuckled. “Actually, would you mind getting on top of me again? The rain is slowing down, but it's still getting in my eyes-- you know, since I don't have a big, spiky lummox of a head in front of me to block it. Just, do it a little more comfortably this time, please. Maybe with a little less _momentum.”_

Winter did as she asked and crawled on top of her, and then lied down, positioning his snout only an inch from hers.

“...That's better.” She said warmly, smiling.

“What did you mean you weren't going to do anything? Was it a bluff to make me come up here and make a fool out of myself?”

_She sure likes watching me cry...._

“No. I wish I could say it was, but it wasn't a bluff. I was really planning on it. I've been planning it for...longer than you'd believe. But once I got up here, all I could think about was... the sky. The sun, and the clouds, and... how much I wanted to experience it all, with you, for as long as I could.”

“I...” she went on. “I just... I kept thinking about our mushroom experience. And, I kept thinking about you, alone. And I kept thinking about death and how final it is. It didn't make sense, I guess. Was I supposed to end my own life because my time was limited? Especially when I had such a good thing with you? I don't know, maybe dying is the only thing scarier than death and that's why I wanted to do it. Or maybe it's the reverse, and that's what kept me alive. Or maybe it goes back and forth, and that's why we're on top of a mountain right now, scraped up by rocks.” The rain stopped pouring.

“Sorry,” Winter mumbled into her ear.

“It's fine. I would have tackled you just as hard. Probably harder.”

“I'm glad you decided not to do it, though. Without me needing to tackle you. It seems my dramatic tackle was done entirely in vain.”

“I wouldn't say that,” she chuckled. “It was quite romantic. Painful, but romantic.”

He snorted. “I'll remember to tackle you more often then.”

“Yeah, let's not, actually. A tight hug would work just as well.”

“Noted.” He said, squirming a bit against her. “....Your warmth feels good.”

“Thanks. Your coolness feels good, too. It usually feels a little better when I'm not being pelted with cold water, but don't take this for complaining.”

He brushed his snout against hers, and they spent the next few moments in silence.

“So,” he began again. “You're going to die, then? In a few years?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“And there is nothing we can do about it?”

“Not a thing.”

“There is literally no magic we can use to stop it?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she said, lifting her talon for the first time since being tackled, wrapping it around him. “And I've thought a lot about it.

He sighed and hugged her back. “You're... not gonna try this again, are you?”

“No, Winter. I told you I decided I didn't want to, right? Because of you, I'm stuck here now. Stuck here for even longer.”

He kissed her gently. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No,” she smiled. “Thank you, Prince Winter.”

 


	18. Old, Stoic Prince

**Chapter 18: Old, Stoic Prince**

  
  


  
  


 

Winter couldn't say how long they stayed like that. On top of each other, on and off kissing. He imagined at least a few hours.

They'd rolled around a bit on the hard surface for comfort. Sat up, lied back down, saying little to nothing in the process. Eventually, he ended up next to her, half on top of her, his snout against the side of her head, her eyes admiring the sky for the few precious minutes the sun was hidden behind the clouds.

“How did we get up here?” She asked, still looking up.

“We flew.”

“Yes, but... how did I end up coming up here? Why did you follow me? What are the chances we'd meet?”

“I'm not sure, but whatever the chance, it was apparently good enough.”

“True.... It's just, I didn't come to Jade Academy for all this.”

He lifted his head and looked over at her. “Why _did_ you come to Jade Academy, exactly?”

She smiled and blushed. “It's a bit embarrassing.”

“You _have_ to tell me now.”

She sighed. “I... came here to have some fun. That's all.”

“...To have some fun?”

“Yeah. I wanted to... see something interesting, you know? I know I wasn't here when Jade Academy first formed—even though I wish I could've been—but still, I'm seeing history right now. This is the world _changing_ and I get to see it with my own two eyes. And plus, I've never....” Her voice trailed off.

“You've never what?”

“Nothing, it's just... I wanted to meet somebody. I've never been in love before, and, I thought if I came here I could... maybe fake it a bit.”

“Fake it?”

“Yeah. You know, get into a little relationship. See what it was like. I've never been with anybody before. I guess I just wanted to see what it was about.... I'm sorry, Winter, I... I didn't think I'd actually fall in love. I didn't think somebody would actually fall in love with _me._ ”

“But you wanted that, didn't you?” He pressed. “Despite the consequences.”

She turned to face him and smiled. “Smart.” She blinked. “Yes, it turns out that... I wanted that more than anything. Even more than I wanted to be a good person.”

“Shhh,” He frowned and spoke softly. “Stop talking like that.”

Her smile widened and she turned to face the sky again.

Winter stared at the side of her head, appalled by how beautiful she was. It was something he'd felt since day one, but he'd never had the courage to really put it into words. Her snout was perfect, her eyes were perfect, and her nose was perfect, and the shape of her head and her neck and her chest and her body—it was all so perfect, so _right._

He loved it when she spoke to him. When she spoke to anybody—but especially when she spoke to _him_. He loved watching her talk and share her opinions and her thoughts; they were always so unpredictable and interesting. He loved when she was sad and he could cheer her up. He loved when he could just be there for her. And when she was there for him.

_I haven't done enough for you...._ He thought. _I've made things so hard for you. I've been so selfish...._

He sat up a bit, and continued looking at her. She faced him with a soft smile. It was the same smile he'd seen the day they'd met, during history, when she'd picked up his broken coal and happily used it.

What had once been a mysterious smile, was now a sad one.

Rays of light burst out from the side of a cloud and covered them both. Summer squinted from it, and he squinted back. He looked in the direction it came from with a talon held up to block the direct light.

“Summer,” he looked back down at her. “Let's go.”

“You ready to head back? I can imagine it's getting a bit hot up here for you.” She sat up.

“No. I don't want to go back.... Not yet.”

“Hmm?” She cocked her head. “Then what...?”

“Just follow me.” He helped her up, and then he walked to the edge of the plateau and took flight. He went straight ahead, flying up at a 45 degree angle. He looked back and found Summer flapping after him.

“Where are we going?” She called out.

“Up.” He answered, turning back to face forward. “As far up as we can!”

They flew for awhile. They flew until the air became thin and their breathing grew heavy. Until the air was cold and the ground was small and distant below them.

Winter slowed down, and she flew up next to him.

“What are we doing all the way up here?” She asked, panting.

“The only thing a dragon can do at this height.” He smiled.

Her expression widened with realization. “You don't mean....

His smile widened. “We're gonna free-fall, Summer. Together.” He stopped and hovered. “Can you handle it?”

“From _this height?”_ She looked down. “Winter, are you sure? This is dangerous....”

“This is where you're supposed to ask if I'm afraid I'll get hurt, and I say dramatically 'for the first time, yes.'”

She smiled and shook her head. “I can't believe you remember that....” She paused for a moment and stared down at the tiny ground. Then she sighed and looked up to meet his icy eyes. “Alright, Prince Winter.” She smiled back at him and grabbed his talon. “Let's do it.”

“Come here,” he pulled her close to him, and then locked her into a tight hug. He leaned sideways, further and further.

Summer struggled against him, a look of confusion and growing terror on her face. “W-Winter, what are you-Winter, we're falling!”

“That's the point....” He said as they began to tumble, still locked in a hug.

Within seconds, Winter felt more like a asteroid than a dragon. He pressed himself as tightly against Summer as he could manage, and she did the same to him. They looked down at the distant ground, and then into each others eyes. The wind whipped past them faster and faster with every passing second.

Terror and exhilaration made his lungs tremble. He felt weightless, like he had the first time, but now with a sense of control and power, and the faster he went the more powerful he felt. It reminded him of the first time he'd flown—the sensation of freedom. Of leaving the ground and being able to go anywhere. To go as far as he wanted. To just forget all the chains of life existed; to forget that this web of reality had ensnared him, held him its in grasp. That he was a slave to life until he died.

But here, for a few precious moments, there was no life or death. Only the fall.

The glorious fall.

He kissed her, and she kissed him back. They stayed like that, picking up a slow spin as they tumbled further down, closer and closer to Pyrrhia—the place that was a prison to them both, as well as their only means of ascension. One and the same.

After a few moments, Winter got close to her ear, “We should pull up soon!”

She nodded and then slid up to his ear, “I'll follow your lead! I trust you!”

She pulled back and smiled at him. He smiled back, but swallowed, the gravity of the situation dawning on him.

_I don't want to pull up too soon, otherwise it'll ruin the climax...._

_...But pulling up too late would be far worse. If either of us so much as clips the ground at this speed... we're done for._

He swallowed. _Here it comes... closer... closer... closer!_ He took a deep breath, and a second later, he released her. “Now!” He shouted.

They both arched their wings up, the slightest bit. They began to level out with the ground at a terrifyingly slow pace.

_Did I do it too late? Did I just kill us both?_

_Are we going to die?_

Terror like nothing he'd ever felt before flooded over him and he pulled up with all this strength.

And then he was level. Flying at an astonishing rate, flying straight, still safely above the ground, but low enough so that he could see the tall weeds of the open plains blow back against the wind that carried him onward.

Summer was a bit closer to the ground and a bit further ahead. He narrowed his wings to catch up, but he didn't know if it made any different. They were both going so fast; the land below them was disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

He saw Summer tilted to the side and he followed her.

_She must be turning around since we've gone so far out.... Smart._

He admired her fast moving frame like he had once done before, back when they'd first free-fallen. A big grin spread out over his face. There was nobody around to see him other than her, and she was stuck looking straight ahead. He could smile freely, in a candid, expressive was, a way he'd not smiled since he was a young dragonet who not yet fathomed the nature of 'the web.'

That endless, contorting, murky web around him. That web that offered a chance for reprisal, by means of its inflictions. He could smile like a dragonet who had not yet seen the fangs of the spider, who had not yet witnessed the expansion of the cobra's head.

He took a deep breath, pulling in the air, both warm and cold at the same time. It reminded him of his dream, of his cottage in the woods, of the fish on his claws and the bright lights in the forest, and the smile on Summer's face when he'd approached.

_I wonder if we'll have our own little fish...._

And then his smile faded.

_An incurable disease caused by an animus that is passed down.... Possibly one done out of hate, simply because her relatives were hybrids._

_It seems almost too unfortunate to consider. Too depressing to even think about...._

He hardened his expression and soaked in the waves a bit longer. He let himself enjoy the powerful winds and the fast moving landscapes for a few more moments.

_There has to be a way...._

_Something we can do._

_I refuse to give up._

_She wouldn't give up on me._

_She DIDN'T give up on me...._

He looked over at her perfect form again. _Summer... I'll find a way to save you. I'll find a way to... make it better. I'll do whatever I have to do to make it better._

_And if I can't cure you, then I'll.... I don't know what I'll do, but...._

_But I know I'll be with you always, right up until the end. I'll give you all the things I wanted to give Moon. I'll give you all the things I wanted to give mom and dad. I'll give you all the things I've always wanted to give, and all the things I've always wanted to get, and all the things I never felt like I could... get out of me._

_I love you Summer.... More than anything else._

They flew for awhile longer. When they slowed down a bit, Winter caught up to her and they laughed about it. Her spirits were cheerful again, and she told Winter how romantic it was, and she teased him about how sweet he was. About how deep down the old, stoic Prince Winter of the Icewings was really just a softy.

Winter argued with her, and insisted it was not the case, but deep down, he found great satisfaction in everything she said. Deep down he knew it was true. He'd known that this was what he really wanted, and this was what he'd endured for.

Just these words, that carried more meaning to him than anything else ever had.

They returned to Jade Mountain a bit later, as the sun began to set. Nobody asked them why they skipped class, and in fact, nobody approached them at all. Turtle had seen them, and after seeing their smiles, he smiled too, and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

_I love you, Summer. More than anything else._

 


	19. All Eyez On Me

**Chapter 19: All Eyez On Me**

  
  


  
  


 

“I really don't think this is necessary....”

“Well I do.” Winter replied crisply. “I will not be comfortable until we've exhausted _all_ of our options.”

“We don't have any options; that's what I've been trying to tell you.”

Winter came to a stop. He frowned. “You could at least _pretend_ to care about your impending death.”

She frowned back. “I _do_ care, but there isn't much that can be done. The disease was made incurable. _Immune_ to animus magic.... How is Turtle supposed to fix that?”

“I...” He sighed. “I haven't exactly worked that out yet. But I'd like to at least _talk_ to him. I need to do something; I can't just sit around and... wait.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Just sit there and _wait?_ I was thinking we'd try and maybe _enjoy_ the time we have together, but yes, drearily waiting for me to keel over and die sounds like a good idea too.”

“No, I didn't-”

“We could invite Turtle to the watching-me-die party. He's really nice. Maybe he'll bring enchanted cake.”

He frowned dismally. “Sorry....”

“It's okay, Winter. Sorry if I was harsh, but, my point is that I don't want to spend all my time--or all of _our_ time--trying to cure the incurable. I don't want to waste it clinging on to things that just aren't... tangible, even if we really, _really_ want them to be. We just... don't have enough time for that sort of thing.”

“I know.” He leaned against the wall and sighed heavily. “Listen, just, humor me this one time. If there _is_ a chance, it's with Turtle. If animus magic can't help us, I doubt anything else can, but can we at least try this?”

“Okay,” she said saddling up next to him with a sigh, brushing a wing against his. “We'll give it a shot. I guess it couldn't hurt, right?”

He peeled himself from the wall and hugged her tenderly. “See, that's the attitude.”

She snorted. “That's the attitude, huh? I should remind you _you're_ the one being sentimental and dreary. Aren't princes supposed to be all stoic and independent?”

“Not when their kingdom is under attack.”

She paused for a moment, and then chuckled. And then she began laughing. “You big idiot.”

They began moving again. About a minute later, they entered the library, talon-in-talon.

“Hello?” Starflight called out. “Peril, if that is you again, just turn around _right now_ or I swear to _claws_ that I'll tell Clay you've been-”

“-Starflight,” Summer interrupted, amused. “It's us.”

“Oh, Summer. And... Winter, I presume?”

“Yes,” Winter replied flatly.

“Hey!” Turtle called out from the back.

Winter rapidly slipped his talon out of Summer's.

She looked down surprised, and then up at him wryly. “ _Afraid to show affection in public?”_ She whispered. “ _You're so adorable....”_

Winter looked away, blushing. He glanced at Starflight, who was just standing there looking inconspicuous. _Too_ inconspicuous for the blind guy who could probably hear everything happening in a mile wide radius.

“Shush.” He said lowly as Turtle approached.

“It's great to see you guys! How are you?”

“We're doing... better.” She smiled warmly at him. “A lot better. Sorry if we worried you before.”

He smiled meekly. “It's alright. I, uh, figured you guys both had your reasons for acting so strangely.”

“Yes, things got a little... out of talon there for a bit, but thankfully we're all back to normal.”

“That's great to hear! So... what brings you both to the library so early?”

Summer smiled meekly, a smile not completely unlike Turtle's. “It seems like you've already figured out we're here to see you, so I'll get right to it.... _Winter_ here had something he wanted to ask.” She pulled her wings in and pressed herself up against him as sweetly as she could. Winter's body tightened and he pulled back an inch.

“I-I, um, yes, yes....” He cleared his throat, the glow of his cheeks plainly visible to everybody around. “I wanted to talk to you about... um, your powers.”

“Yes?” Turtle leaned in a bit. “What do you need?”

“...I want to cure Summer.”

His face sank a bit. “Um....”

“But her disease isn't curable by animus magic.” Starflight interjected.

Winter huffed, frowning. “So you _did_ know.”

“Yes, _of course_ I did. Do you think we didn't mention animus magic to her when she told us about her illness?”

_“Yes,_ and you didn't say anything to _me_ about it.”

“Because some things aren't for me to tell, Winter.”

Winter huffed again and turned back to Turtle, annoyed. “Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about it. See if... maybe there's something we can do. I mean, there has to be a way. Anything....”

Turtle sighed heavily. “I've been thinking about it.... A lot, actually.” He admitted with a faint blush. “I can't say I have any idea really--how to go about curing her, I mean. But I... think I might know the first step to figuring it out.”

Winter's face brightened a bit “Do you? What is it? What do we do? What's the first step?”

“Now, uh, don't get too excited.... It's only the beginning. And it's not a cure. It's just to understand what _specifically_ was done to her. What we're dealing with....”

“It's a spell, isn't it?” Summer asked. “That can't be cured and is passed down generation to generation. What's to understand?”

“From what I've gathered, your family has had this for generations, and the information you got passed down to you was, as you admitted yourself, inaccurate at best....”

“...So?”

“So we don't know exactly what the spell was. We don't know what it exists to do, why it was put on your ancestor in the first place--and we don't even know who cast it. But we _do_ know that it is identical to a rare, but existing, muscular disease.”

“I... see.” Starflight mumbled. “Clever. Very clever.”

“What's clever?” Winter asked. “What does all this mean?”

“It means that this mysterious animus dragon may have made the spell to emulate the disease. He might have put the disease itself into the family line—one scroll called it the 'lineage killer,' because of a story about it killing an only son and ending a royal family line. He might have done something else to it, too. He might have messed up and left a weak point in the spell; he may have even put in a way to fix it. But we'll never know any of that for sure unless we find out the details behind the spell.”

“But how do we do that?” Summer asked, her expression and mannerisms suddenly far more sincere. “The dragon who cast it has probably been dead for generations.... There is nobody alive who knows about it.”

“That's probably true, but....” Turtle rubbed his neck nervously. “I... may have solved that issue.”

“How?” Winter asked.

“With animus magic. I had to think long and hard about it, but... I'm thinking of enchanting a piece of charcoal to write down the details of the spell—what exactly the spell is _and_ why it was put on her in the first place.”

“My claws....” Winter said. “You mean you can just enchant an object to give you information? Can animus magic really do that....?”

“Animus magic can do anything....” Summer mumbled, looking down at the floor in shock.

Turtle smiled meekly. “I don't really know the limitations. I don't think it's... a good thing to look into too deeply. But it'll at least be able to tell us what happened in the past.... Maybe. I know it isn't much.... S-Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for that is _amazing.”_ Winter took a step toward him, his eyes still wide with wonder. “Can we do this now?”

“I, um, I'll have to... to work out the right spell. It might take some time, since I don't have Qibli here, I'm not sure-”

“-We'll help you.” Starflight interjected. “We'll come up with something. If you're comfortable doing it so soon, of course.”

“I, uh,” Turtle looked at all of their faces, lastly at Summer's. She looked back at him, her eyes wide and confused. “Alright,” he swallowed. “I'll do it.”

They all headed over to the nearest table. Winter approached Summer before they arrived and pulled her aside.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “You look kinda sick.”

“Just nervous. I... I never thought I'd have a chance, i-is all.”

Winter held back the tears rising to his eyes. “I hope we can cure you. I want to more than anything else in the world.”

“I do, too.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I really do.”

Starflight closed the library and Turtle pulled out some paper and coal to write down potential incantations. They dismissed a good amount of ideas before deciding on both what they wanted this enchantment to do, and then on getting the enchantment itself just right.

When they got it perfect, they all gathered around Turtle, who sat in front of a piece of paper with nervous sweat on his palms.

“Alright.” He swallowed. “Everybody ready?”

“Never gonna get any readier than this....” Summer said, her breath shallow.

Winter put a talon on her shoulder. “Moment of truth....”

“Exciting, isn't it?” Clay added from behind them.

Starflight jumped and gasped. “Clay! How long've you-” he half cleared his throat and half coughed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Just a few minutes. Was wondering what all the commotion was about.”

“Commotion...?” Starflight asked.

“Just heard the library was closed. Worried me a little so I figured I'd come to check it out.”

“O-Oh....” Starflight blushed a bit. “Um, this is a bit of a.... private matter.”

“It's okay, Starflight.” Summer interjected. “I'm okay with Clay. He can stay if he wants.”

“Oh, thank you, Summer. So what's going on?”

“We're about to enchant some charcoal,” Sunny said from the other side of the room.

Starflight jumped in the opposite direction and nearly fell to the floor. “WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?” He looked around the room fervently.

“Shush,” Sunny bounded up next to him and brushed her wing against his. “Go ahead, Turtle. Just ignore him.”

Starflight shrunk back, embarrassed and uncertain.

Turtle swallowed again. “Alright, here we go....” He looked down at the paper. “I enchant this charcoal to fly over to that piece of paper and write down the exact spell that was cast on Summer's ancestor which has resulted in Summer's current magic-resistant, muscular illness.”

The charcoal lifted into the air, paused, and then a second later shot over to the paper and started scribbling. They all watched it, rapt. After a few moments, it dropped mid-swing and rolled away. Turtle went forward and retrieved the paper.

He swallowed hard and began to read: “I enchant this dragon to contract the line killer disease--make it incurable, undispellable through animus magic, contagious to fight generation relatives through the air, and have it remove the animus magic of whoever contracts it.”

Summer gasped.

“What...?” Winter's snout opened in shock. “That's... a lot different than I was expecting....”

Turtle's brow furled. “I was afraid something like this might happen. This only opens up more questions. It's why I wanted to know the motives behind it.”

“I don't get it.” Clay said. “Why the part about removing animus powers? Was this animus casting it on another animus?”

“That's impossible.” Summer looked over at him. “I... I don't have animus family members. Nobody in my bloodline is magic.”

“This magic piece of charcoal disagrees.” Turtle said, inspecting the now lifeless piece of coal.

“So you're saying I have animus dragons for ancestors...?”

“Does that mean that....” Winter turned to face her. “Could you be an animus?”

She looked down at her own talons. “I....” She sighed and frowned. “Not anymore. Not now. Because of this disease.”

“Aww,” Sunny approached her. “I'm sorry, Summer.”

Summer just smiled. “You're one to talk, Sunny.”

“I also don't get why it spreads through the air to family members....” Clay added with confusion. “Doesn't that seem a little overkill?”

“It does.” Starflight agreed. “Especially since an animus has such a large array of ways he could... kill other dragons. Why make a disease that targets family members?”

Winter clenched his jaw and looked up. “Turtle.” He had a whole script of things he wanted to say in his head, but that was all that came out. Turtle looked back at him with a look of intense worry, but one of determination as well.

“We need to know _why_ this was done first.” Turtle said, looking back at the charcoal. “Then... then we'll figure out who.”

“Should we prepare another incantation?” Starflight asked.

“Not this time...” Turtle said, still staring at the charcoal. “I'm just gonna do it.”

“Are you sure?” Fatespeaker asked, concerned. “Aren't you worried about it being worded right?

Starflight flinched. She smiled and put an apologetic arm through his.

“This... this should be simple. I enchant this charcoal to fly to that piece of paper and write down the reasons why the dragon who enchanted Summer's ancestor with the undispellable 'line killer disease' did so, and to describe it from the caster's perspective, in the caster's own words. Write down the caster's name immediately after.”

The charcoal flew from his hand to the paper and started scribbling. This time for a longer time before stopping. When it collapsed, Turtle seemed to breath a sigh of relief that the charcoal didn't start killing everybody in the room. He looked at the paper.

“Oh my claws...” He mumbled.

“What? What's it say?” Winter asked, stepping closer.

Turtle swallowed and began to read. “I enchanted Princess Coldwind with the modified line killer disease in order to kill her sister, Princess Snowfox, for betraying me. I chose disease because Snowfox had made herself immune to my magic, but not to disease. -Prince Frost.”

“WHAT?!” Winter barked, making everybody jump.

Fatespeaker petted Starflight on the back gently.

“Th-That's impossible! That would mean that Summer is an Icewing. An Icewing descended from royalty!”

“She doesn't seem very Icewing-y to me,” Clay said.

“Hush!” Sunny said with furled brows. She then turned toward Summer. “What do you think about all this?”

Her eyes were wide, and her snout was agape with shock. “I....” She shook her head. “I don't know. This is... is this true? Winter, is this possible?”

He had two talons on his head, a strained look on his face, as if his mind were traveling a hundred miles per hour.

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Starflight began. “But didn't Prince Frost and Princess Snowfox exist in Darkstalker's time? That would mean that this 'line killer disease' has been active for over two thousand years now....”

“No,” Winter said, his voice low, his eyes downcast at the floor. “You're thinking of Prince Frostbite and a different Snowfox. There was another Snowfox a few generations ago, and I believe she had a sister named Coldwind. But she wasn't an animus, at least... I didn't think she was. Prince Frost, though....”

“Then why did he enchant the spell like that? She had to be an animus.” Turtle frowned. “This doesn't make any sense.”

“Wait, Turtle,” Winter began. “Can you tell the charcoal to tell us how Princess Snowfox betrayed Prince Frost? Also, why you're at it, why he chose the lineage killer disease specifically?”

He looked at the charcoal intently for a few moments, and without turning away, began to speak. “I enchant this charcoal to write on that piece of paper how Princess Snowfox betrayed Prince Frost, and why Prince Frost chose the line killer disease specifically to kill her, all from the perspective of Prince Frost.”

The charcoal flew from his hand and began to scribble.

When it stopped, he picked up the paper and began to read. “She tricked me into giving her animus powers. I chose the line killer disease to kill her slowly, and to prevent her from passing on MY powers.”

“Wow.” Summer said, chuckling. “This is ridiculous.”

“Again. Overkill.” Clay added.

“You're telling me,” Winter mumbled, turning to face Summer. “You're....”

She looked over at him and smiled. “...Princess Summer.”

Fatespeaker hugged Starflight a bit more tightly. “This is so exciting!”

“...What do we do now?” Turtle asked. “I... I'm a little confused.”

“Yeah, I think we all are.” Clay said. “I mean, I _think_ we all are. We all are, right?”

Sunny frowned. “I know I am.”

“Turtle.”

Turtle turned to face Winter.

“I have one more question. Could you do it one more time for me?”

“Depends. What's the question?”

“Who is Summer a descendant of? Coldwind or Snowfox?”

Turtle looked down and thought about the question for a moment. He looked up without a change in expression and asked it of the charcoal. It flew over and wrote down the answer.

He lifted up the paper. “Coldwind.”

“I... see.” Winter swallowed. “That's... I see.”

Summer looked up at him and squinted. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters because Coldwind was not an animus, which means you didn't lose animus powers. Your lineage just got caught up in a mess between Prince Frost and Prince Snowfox, and I'm guessing somewhere in there a secret exile went on, hence the reason you're clearly no longer an Icewing.”

She looked down at her own talons. “But, still....”

“Yes,” Winter straightened his spine and turned to address her formally. “Still. You are a descendant of Icewing royalty. You have Icewing blood, and are by respect of that blood, an Icewing princess—in the same sense I am an Icewing prince.”

“Wow,” Sunny turned to face her. “That's amazing! I guess that means we're partially related!” Sunny hugged her.

“Wow,” Summer chuckled. “This is really sudden....”

Clay stood up and stretched. “Alright, now for the important part. We just need to come up with a cure, right?”

“Unfortunately,” Turtle began. “I don't believe that is possible.”

Tupac's fourth studio album on Turtle.

“We saw the original spell. It can't be disenchanted. It can't be _cured._ It, um...” He sighed. “It doesn't look like there is anything I can do. I don't think there is anything _anybody_ can do.”

 


	20. Rings of Power

**Chapter 20: Rings of Power**

  
  


Moonlight illuminated the surface of Jade Forest. The wind blew, and Winter inhaled the scent of pine and of cool, northern air. He watched as a family of raccoons appeared from the dark, wind-blown folds of the bushes down below. They disappeared moments later.

He sighed heavily and let his head lull to the side lazily.

_I've been sighing so much lately...._

He let his eyes close.

_Should I go over it again? Does it matter? I've been over it so many times. I've thought about everything—of every conceivable way. I talked with Turtle, Clay, Sunny, and even Starlight and Fatespeaker, but... nobody knows what to do.”_

He held up his talon and looked at the two new rings on his claws—one the color of his scales, the other the color of Summer's. He swallowed, and then a moment later, sighed again.

_I failed you, Summer. I said I'd find a way. I promised it. But I failed you._

He sat there for a bit longer, looking out over the dark woods, looking up at the moons, wondering how Qibli, and Hailstorm, and Moon, and even Peril were doing. And then he thought about _her._

_I wonder how she's doing right now...._ He bit his tongue lightly. _I haven't been with her all day—and right after she said all that stuff about wanting to make every moment count.... But... she understands. She has to. I needed today to... accept it. To really think it over and consider everything and know the truth for a fact. To realize that this disease can't be cured...._

_It can't be cured no matter how much I want to cure it._

He inhaled deeply and sighed again, but this time he pulled in both the scent of pine, and the scent of citrus.

“Hello, Winter.” She spoke as if on cue.

He turned to face her, his eyelids low and heavy, his snout pulled down in a loose frown.

She smiled softly. “So did you solve the mystery? Did you figure out how to cure me?”

He looked down, and then back up at her. He shook his head slowly.

“I know, honey.” She sat down next to him and pressed her body against his.

The next breath Winter took, he felt something pleasurable pass through him.

_Honey...._ He thought curiously. He pressed himself against her in return. _Nobody has ever called me 'honey' before...._

“I tried so hard.” He began. “I tried so hard and I... I just couldn't do it.” He sighed again.

“I know. I appreciate you putting in so much effort. That you care this much.... It makes me really happy. But you have to accept it Winter, it's over. It's done....”

He grimaced.

“...Please spend the time we have left with me. Doing fun, happy things. Not alone, brooding.”

“...Please, don't say it like that.”

She turned to face him. He felt her warm breath against his scales.

“There's no other way to say it. It's just the truth. It's done.”

He closed his eyes and sighed again. “I know....” he whined, and then chuckled a moment later. “Look at me,” he shook his head. “You're the one dying and I'm the one getting the pity.”

She rubbed his back and smiled. “As long as I'm not the one getting pitied.”

He snorted, and a moment later, she continued. “Not that I have any reason to _be_ pitied. I knew I was gonna die from the start, but now I get to die a _princess._ I don't think I could have gotten better news.”

A few moments of silence passed between them.

“Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe I could have gotten better news, but all in all, things could have gone worse.”

Winter sighed again. “So how do you like being an Icewing?”

She laughed. “I don't think having royal Icewing blood somewhere in my distant past suddenly makes me an Icewing. I don't know if it works like that.”

“Does royalty work like that...?”

“It does now.” Her smiled widened. “And I'm not going to let you take it away from me.”

He snorted again. “...Being royal's not all that great.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. There's... a lot of pressure. A lot of _rules...._ Stupid ones. Formality and lineage and obligation and responsibility. The whole thing feels like a giant curse.”

“Hmm,” she frowned. “I never knew you felt that way....” She nudged him with her wing.

“I didn't feel that way. I loved it... up until the moment I lost it all.”

A few more silent moments passed.

“Well...” she said lowly. “You're still Prince Winter to me.”

“I appreciate that. But, unfortunately, that doesn't make me any more or less royal.”

“Doesn't it? I am Icewing royalty now. Doesn't that give me some weight in the distinction?”

Winter paused. “I... guess it does. But I literally am not a Prince anymore. I was _exiled.”_

“Oh, ho, ho, so that means you're an eligible bachelor prince, then? Looking for a piece of sovereignty to call his own....” She cleared her throat. “I HEREBY DECREE THEE PRINCE WINTER, PRINCE OF JADE ACADEMY, PARTNER TO PRINCESS SUMMER, PRINCESS OF POSSIBILITY, AND ENCUMBANT KING TO MY HEART.”

“What are you doing?” Winter turned to look at her, his face scrunched up.

“I'm decreeing you royal with my princess powers.”

“That's not how it works _at all._ ”

“Leave it to the _Prince_ to care about the formalities and rules over the obvious _declaration of love_ I just made. Yeesh.”

He cocked an eyebrow and turned away. He looked out over the forest for a few moments, and his face grew somber.

“Summer....” His voice came out low, sudden, slightly hoarse.

“Yes... Prince Winter?”

He turned to face her, tears in his eyes. “I....” he shook his head. “I can't stand to lose you. I can't take it.”

She smiled at him. “It's okay, Winter. I know it hurts now, but you'll live and you'll move on and you'll have a good life. And you haven't lost me yet, you know.”

“No....” His snout tightened out into a terse line and he began to shake his head again. “I... I'm not gonna move on from this, you don't get it.”

“Winter,” she said smoothly, moving her wing against his. “You will. Maybe not completely. Maybe there will always be a part of you that still thinks about me. That still wishes I were there.... I know I'd have a part like that for you. But you _will_ move on. You will survive without-”

“-Summer, please.”

She looked at him curiously.

“I.... I can't keep you alive. No matter what I do, no matter how much I want to. You're going to die and I can't stop it. And I would do anything to stop it. Anything.” He took both her talons in his. “I would travel from one end of Pyrrhia to the other and then back again a hundred times. I'd cross the ocean looking for a cure if that's what I had to do. I'd go back to the palace, convince them to make me a Prince again, a _real_ one, with all the respect and the honorifics... and then I'd spit in their faces a moment later and march out. I'd die a hundred times. I would _kill_ a hundred times. I'd live a hundred meaningless lifetimes if that's what it took. But there is literally _no way to stop it_. Even if there was a special cure to the disease itself somewhere over seas, that bastard Frost made this variant of it incurable. You're going to die, Summer, but... don't make me lose you completely.”

She looked into his eyes, tears welling up in her own now. “...What do you mean?”

He untaloned her and reached for one of the two rings on his claws. “I went to Turtle earlier today, after I'd had some time to think.... I... I couldn't come up with a cure. Neither of us could, nobody could--but you knew how that was going to turn out. So did I. At least I think I did. I think maybe we all did... but, but I, I did have... one idea.”

He grabbed her talon, lifted it, and slid the ring the color of his scales on to her claw.

“Is it enchanted?” She asked, looking down at it.

“Yes. Whoever is wearing this ring is incapable of transmitting illness, diseases, or sicknesses of any kind, whether through contact, through air--or through blood.” He swallowed heavily, and watched rapt as her expression contorted as the implications of this dawned on her. “I-It means... that.....” He looked down bashfully and clenched his jaw.

Her eyes widened. “It means that...” Her shoulders lurched a bit and her eyes began to overflow with tears. “... if I have a dragonet....” She brought a talon to her mouth and started to sob. “Oh my claws, Winter.... But how? Is it really possible?”

With tears running down his face too, he began to smile. “It's because Frost used a _disease_. Snowfox made herself immune to his magic, so he needed something non-magical to get to her. I don't know if his plan worked the way he wanted it too. There's a good chance none of his spells remained active after she'd been infected—IF she'd been infected at all—and it's impossible to know, since that's all lost, Icewing knowledge. But what DID happen for sure was that Coldwind was infected, and this disease carried down. But with these rings.... We can end the cycle.”

“So you mean... if I have a dragonet...?”

“It'll be a healthy dragonet.”

She stared at the ring, her eyes glimmering. “It's the color of your scales.... It even sparkles like they do.”

“And when you get lonely....” He swallowed, his snout tightening into a another terse line. “It... cools down, to remind you of me.”

“Oh, Winter....”

“Please,” he grabbed her outstretched talon. “Summer, I... I couldn't save you. I tried so hard, I thought of everything, but... I couldn't do it. But if maybe you... passed on a piece of who you are....” He looked down bashfully, unable to meet her eyes.

“Are you saying you want me to have your dragonet?”

“Yes,” he looked up at her, pleading. “I don't want to live without you. I don't want you to die.” He swallowed again and closed his eyes. “But... maybe if you... have a dragonet with me, then you can live on. I-In... a way.”

“Winter, I... I would be honored, but... what if it doesn't work? The ring, I mean? What if our child gets the disease anyway? Or what if something happens and this ring gets removed? Won't they catch it? I don't know if I want to risk that....”

“I already thought of all that.... I got Turtle to enchant a device to tell us if our rings would work exactly how we wanted them to. And they _will._ Our dragonet will be safe.”

“... _Our_ rings? Is yours enchanted too?”

“Yes. It's enchanted so the wearer cannot become diseased. If... if I give this to our child, then we have nothing to worry about. _Both_ rings would have to come off for the disease to transmit. So... it's okay.”

She looked down at the ground in awe. “So... it's okay?” She looked up at him. “It's really okay?”

He smiled warmly, his eyes still glittering. “It's really okay.”

“Winter, I... I'm.... Thank you. Thank you so much. I-”

He held her snout with his talon and leaned and kissed her. He stayed like that, kissing her, as her body slowly gave way to the weight of his.

“Not here,” she said after a few moments.

“Where do you want to do it?”

“Up. Let's go to the top of Jade Mountain.” She smiled. “We'll be alone there.”

He smiled back and then helped her to her feet,

“I can't think of a better place....”

 


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

  
  


  
  


_As I predicted, the scavengers have quickly caught on to the nature of the bell exercise. When I rang the bell, the first two scavengers in the experiment responded immediately. The third after a short delay. When I rang the bell a second time, all three responded immediately._

_Needless to say, the implications of this are significant, especially now that we've finally made contact with the-_

A dragon cleared his throat.

Winter stopped writing and turned around. “Ahh, I've been waiting for you.”

Qibli snorted. “We don't see each other for three months and that's the reception I get? Same old Winter, I see.”

“Did you bring it?”

Qibli smiled and shook his head. “Yes I brought it, you maniac. That's the entire reason I came here.... And, you know, to see my _friend._ But you wouldn't know anything about that.”

“Excellent.” Winter took the bundle of papers from Qibli. “These will be exceptionally beneficial toward my studies. And _for your information_ I've actually been looking forward to you coming back.”

“Oh?” Qibli said, taken aback. “Could it be? Is Winter really lightening up? You know that's a sign of maturity, right?”

“I meant because I knew you'd have the papers with you.”

“Hmpf.” Qibli frowned. “Should have figured....”

Winter chuckled. “Is Moon with you?”

“Yes, she's currently looking for Autumn.”

“Mmm,” Winter scanned the papers as he responded. “Does she even know where she's at?”

“No, but.... Wait, did I say _looking?_ I meant _listening._ Because it would be hard not to notice her.”

Winter chuckled again. “Yes, she is rather loud, isn't she?”

“Incredibly loud,” Qibli smiled. “Nothing like her dad.... Then again, you could get pretty loud yourself back in the day.”

“'Back in the day....'” Winter looked up from the papers, and then over at Qibli. “I'm only eleven....”

Qibli laughed. “Maybe you should try acting like it sometime.”

“No time. Too busy trying to figure out these ridiculous creatures.” He tossed the papers on the table. “Plus raising Autumn is a full time job in and of itself. Was I this big of a talonful at her age?”

“No idea, I didn't have the pleasure of knowing a three year old Winter, but I'm sure it was hilarious.”

Winter blushed a bit. “Like you were much better.”

“I can see it now. A young Prince Winter ordering around servants. 'Get me my scavengers! Get my scavengers food! Get my scavengers toys! Scavengers scavengers scavengers!'”

“Ha ha.” Winter said dryly. “Very funny.”

“Seriously, though....” Qibli looked at him meaningfully. “Take a break from all this. Ever since... _she_ died, you've been acting like this is the only thing you care about.”

“It's helps me forget. And don't act like I'm not there for Autumn. I do a good job taking care of her.”

“I'm not arguing that. You're fantastic with Autumn, especially for someone who is practically a dragonet himself, but.... Is 'forgetting' what you should be doing? And I say that for that Autumn's sake, too.”

Winter sighed with frustration. “Look, I misspoke. It isn't... forgetting, but whatever it is, it's helping. I can't just sit here and think about it all the time, and if I get things done while I distract myself then... so what? My problems will be there tomorrow. I can only... deal with so many at one time. I have to be there for Autumn, don't I? And I can't do that if I'm always... bogged down. It's a lot to handle, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah....” Qibli said. “Just don't work yourself to death. We'd all be devastated—but most of all _me._ I don't know what I'd do without you Winter....”

“Are you done?”

“Sorry....” Qibli chuckled, but his face grew serious a moment later. “I... I didn't forget what today is, by the way.”

“I know. I didn't think you would....” Winter sighed.

_Summer...._

_I miss you so much...._

_“_ DADDY!”

“Looks like Moon found her.” Qibli smiled.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy! Moon's here! Moon's here!” Autumn ran up, pulling Moon by the talon. She looked up at him and grinned like she'd just unearthed some priceless artifact.

“So she is.” Winter smiled, and then looked up toward Moon. “How are you?”

“Good! It seems Autumn is doing... fantastically.” She looked down at the dragonet, who'd begun to bounce up and down in excitement. “How are you doing?”

“Holding up.”

She smiled softly. “That's good. “It's been... two years now, hasn't it?”

“Daddy! Qibli is here too!”

Winter smiled and shook his head. “I saw. Now settle down, honey, that's no way for a princess to act.” She immediately stopped bouncing around.

“I do hope you're not trying to make her into... well, you.” Qibli said, looking down at Autumn skeptically. “No offense, she just has a lot of... um, what's the word.... friendliness to her.”

Winter frowned at him.

“Sorry, Daddy!” She stood as straight as she could and put on a serious expression. “Welcome to our household, Qibli of the Sandwings and Moonwatcher of the Nightwings! We are honored to have you here!”

“Oh my _claws_ she is adorable!” Moon smiled widely.

“I was thinking the same thing....” Qibli said, looking back and forth between Autumn and Winter. “She might look just like you, but personality wise she must have gotten just about everything from her mom....”

“Yeah,” Winter said with an arched brow. “You'd think, but I don't remember Summer having _this_ much energy. She was pretty rambunctious, though, so who knows.”

“Well I think it's _wonderful.”_ Moon kneeled down next to the erect and serious Autumn. “Did Winter teach you your little greeting?”

“Yes!” She said with a grin. “He acted it out for me and _everything.”_

Moon hid her grin, and Qibli just turned to look at him with the smuggest, most mocking look he'd ever seen.

“Do you guys wanna see the other stuff he showed me how to do? Oh! Oh! I could show you the Icewing snow-dance song! Daddy has a real nice voice.”

“Okay, okay,” Winter said blushing. “How about we talk about something other than the embarrassing things Daddy showed you how to do in _private.”_

_“_ Awww....” Autumn frowned.

“Don't worry,” Qibil said facing her. “We'll let you show us the moment your grumpy old daddy isn't around.”

“I know!” She said with a big smile.

Moon laughed. Winter grimaced.

-

Later that night, after Autumn had been put to bed, Qibli, Moonwatcher, and Winter all sat outside, on the roof of Winter's home. They all looked up into the dark sky. Only one moon was visible tonight, and only partially so.

“So it's been two years now, huh?” Moon said, looking over at Winter.

“It has.” Winter replied solemnly.

“How are you doing? I know I asked before, but....” Qibli paused. “Really, how are you holding up?”

“Like I said, I'm okay. I'm alive. I have Autumn—thank claws. And I have scavengers to occupy the free time that isn't taken up with her.”

“I'm glad to see you're doing such a great job of being a dad.” Moon smiled. “We're both really proud of you.”

Winter snorted.

“We really are,” Qibli said. “Both of us. You've... had to deal with a lot.”

Winter kept his eyes aimed off into the distance, toward the waning moon. “It's nothing.”

“It's not nothing, Winter....” Moon frowned.

“Are you happy?” Qibli asked, suddenly enough to make Moon look over at him.

Winter stirred. “Hmf. Always asking the big questions, aren't you?”

“No, if I was asking the big questions I'd be asking about that 'Icewing snow-dance song,' but since I'm a nice guy and you seemed _terribly embarrassed_ , I thought you'd appreciate something a bit easier to answer.”

Winter snorted. “Thanks. You're a real saint.”

“...Well?” Qibli said after a brief silence. “Are you?”

Winter sighed softly. “When... Summer died. That was the hardest part of my life. I don't think anything has ever hurt that bad, or ever will hurt that bad again.”

“You've changed a lot since then....” Moon said, with sad eyes.

“I have. So has Autumn. She's gotten a lot more mature.”

“So I've seen. Last time I was here you couldn't command her around like a solider.” Qibli said with a snort.

“ _Qibli.”_ Moon said harshly.

Winter shook his head. “It's fine. He's just kidding around.”

Qibli shot Moon an 'I told you so' glance.

“Anyway,” Winter went on. “To answer your question. Yes, I suppose I am happy.”

“...You sure?” Qibli asked. “You've seemed a bit down the last few times we've seen you.”

“It's like Moon said, I've changed a lot. But, I've been... slowly returning to the way I was. I don't think I'll ever be like that again—I _have_ changed—but the grief, it isn't... it doesn't hurt so bad anymore. You know, sometimes, when I'm with Autumn, I forget Summer's dead. Sometimes I feel like she's right there with me, standing behind me or lying in her bed, watching with that smile she used to always have, watching Autumn play around and be as loud as possible. Autumn reminds me of her a lot, sometimes.”

Moon swallowed heavily.

“I... see.” Qibli said, softly. “I'm glad that things are getting better. For what it's worth.”

“Thanks. And they have been getting better. They get a little better every day.”

Not long after, Winter led them to the guest house. It was a small hut a short distance away, about the size of his.

They were on a small development off the side of the Talons of Peace camp, which was now more of a headquarters. He was in charge of getting everything ready for the New Possibility scavenger research area, and if plans fell through for that, he had to 'upgrade' the current one there at the headquarters. Or, in other words, use his research and efforts here to make it operational.

He returned to his hut, feeling a bit sullen that he'd had so little time to spend with his friends, and that so much of it had been about his depression and... her. But he was happy that he had these new studies to look through. He'd suggested 'dual tribe scavenger studies' as a productive method of bringing the Rainwings and Nightwings closer together--and it turned out that he wasn't the only dragon interested in the strange, furry beasts.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?” He turned toward Autumn's bed. “How come you're still awake? It's late.”

“I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Qibli and Moonwatcher and going back to the rain forest again.”

Winter chuckled. “You really like the rain forest, don't you? Hmm, you turn four soon, don't you? Maybe we'll visit for your hatching day.”

“Really?”

He could practically hear her grinning.

“Yeah, sure. But only if you get your sleep tonight.”

“Okay!”

He headed to his bed and started to lie down.

“...Daddy?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Can you tell me a story?”

A moment of silence.

“It's pretty lat-”

“- _Pleeeeeeaaasssseeeee!”_

He chuckled and shook his head and sat up. “Alright, alright... just one. But then you gotta go to sleep, alright? You promise?”

“Mmhm, I promise.”

“Alright.” He got up and walked over to her, and then he sat on the floor next to her bed. “Which do you want to hear.”

“The one about how you first met momma.”

“Oh? You wanna hear that one again? Are you sure?”

He saw the shape of her head nodding through the dark.

He smiled. “Alright.”

 

_So there we were, in history with Webs. It was Summer's first day at Jade Academy. Like I told you before she'd been lingering around, hanging out on the top of the mountain and watching the other students, but she hadn't been to any classes yet._

“Was she watching you?”

“I don't think so,” he answered. “She seemed like she saw me for the first time in history class. And plus, she was up there because... she was thinking of leaving. Cause she was afraid.”

“Momma was afraid?”

“Yes, believe it or not.” He laughed. “Sometimes even she got scared.”

“Jade Academy sounds scary....”

He snorted. “Don't worry. You'll be terrified until you have your first day there, and then you'll love every second of it. --Anyway! Stop distracting me! Let me finish so you can get some sleep.”

“Okay!”

_I remember sitting there doodling on my paper. I wasn't very happy at that point in my life. I'd recently been exiled from my tribe, and I was feeling very... alone. When Summer walked in, I remember being blown away by her looks. She was very beautiful. Tall, and confident, and beautiful. But when she walked in she looked shy, very shy, a shy I can barely even remember._

_But the moment Web's introduced her... heh, she looked up with this... ridiculous smile. You know the smile. The one she would always make me before I kissed her._

“Ewww!”

“Hush.”

_Anyway, she smiled like that in front of everybody, and suddenly she didn't look so shy anymore. I remember staring at her like some kind of idiot. I'd never seen someone so pretty before. She really... blew me away. And when she walked toward me, I remember panicking a bit, because she surprised me._

_I broke my piece of charcoal in half on accident, and the broken piece rolled onto the floor, right up to her. She looked down at it, and I remember Webs said something about it. About how I always used to break them._

“Prince Blizzard-claws!”

“Hush! Let me finish.”

_Summer bent down and picked up the charcoal, and then she said 'perfect, I needed something to write with.' Webs offered her a fresh piece and insulted me, but she threw the insult back in his face and said she'd rather use mine, because... that would make it... crisper. So it would write better...._

“...Daddy? Are you okay?”

_“_ Yes,” he said back in a low voice. “I'm okay, honey.”

“Thanks for telling me again.”

“It's okay. It was nice to... remember it.”

“...Are you sure you're okay?”

Winter patted her on the head softly and chuckled. “I'm better than okay.... Just go ahead and get some rest. You've been all over the place today, I wouldn't want you to get sick.”

“I can't get sick, though!”

He remembered the ring and laughed. “Just get some rest.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“Okay! Good night, Daddy!”

_“_ Good night, Autumn.” He climbed in his bed and sat there for a few moments, staring into the darkness of the room, tears in his eyes. He clutched a round object in his hands. He looked down at it and shook it.

Small pellets of eternal snow danced around the interior of the invincible glass ball, falling atop of a visage of the ice palace, the place he'd spent his youth—the place both he and Summer had ultimately originated.

A small smile formed on his lips as a single tear ran down his face.

_Good night, Princess Summer.... I'll never forget you._

 


End file.
